Sign, Symbol, Token
by PepperjackCandy
Summary: COMPLETED -- H/D Slash. In Harry's seventh year, Dumbledore has a plan to defeat Voldemort, and it involves Dumbledore, Snape, Harry, and -- Draco Malfoy?
1. Missing

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 1  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything. I do not.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
Yes, I am aware I suck at titles. But I was playing around with the thesaurus, looking for synonyms for signs, and these were the first three words that turned up. I thought it sounded ok as a title.  
  
========================  
"Good-bye, Mum. Good-bye, Dad." Hermione said to her parents as she gave them each a hug.   
  
Harry, who had enjoyed this term break more than nearly any other, since he'd spent half of it with the Weasleys and half with the Grangers, stood by, holding his trunk and Hedwig's cage. "Thanks for having me." He shook Mr. Granger's hand, but Mrs. Granger wouldn't have that, instead pulling Harry in for a hug.  
  
"Hermione! Harry!" A masculine voice cried out, followed by a feminine voice calling the same greeting.  
  
Harry and Hermione turned to greet Ron and Ginny. Ron and Ginny exchanged farewells with their parents, just as the conductor gave the final boarding call.  
  
The foursome hurried onto the train, stowing their luggage and taking their companion animals with them to their compartment. The train pulled from the station, and as it hurtled up the tracks toward Hogwarts, they began sharing their stories of term break, and of their hopes for this, their seventh and final year at Hogwarts.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
"So, Charlie says he's going to approach Dumbledore to see if they can arrange a kind of internship for me to go work with the dragons with him in Romania."  
  
"But what about your hopes of being Head Boy?" Hermione asked, the pout on her face clearly indicating that she had personal reasons for objecting to this plan.  
  
Ron snorted. "Come on, Hermione. With the kind of competition I have, there's no chance I'll be Head Boy this year."  
  
This didn't mollify Hermione, who continued to pout, unnoticed by Ron.  
  
It was also unnoticed by Harry, who sat staring out the window, a vague feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong.  
  
"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny, sitting at his side, asked him.  
  
Harry jumped as her voice interrupted his contemplation. He turned to look at her. "Nothing. Really, Ginny. Just . . . thinking."  
  
As he looked at the younger girl, his eyes happened to catch Pansy Parkinson walking down the corridor. "Malfoy!" He exclaimed quietly.  
  
"There goes our peace and quiet." Ron mumbled.  
  
"No. That's what's missing. Malfoy."  
  
Hermione snorted. "I didn't know you were looking forward to seeing him."  
  
"I'm not." Harry insisted. "But isn't it strange that he hasn't been around to badger us yet?"  
  
"He's probably off picking on incoming first years. Or kicking puppies." Ron snorted. "Don't worry about him. Are you planning to take Divination again this year?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I think I've had about all I can stand of Trelawney. I might try an internship myself this term."  
  
"Really?" Hermione responded. "Maybe I should look into it, too. Since I don't have any wizarding world experience, and all."  
  
That got Hermione and Ron talking again, and Harry was able to lapse back into his distracted silence.  
  
After a few minutes, he excused himself and got up to explore the train, looking for Draco.  
  
He started at the head of the train, methodically looking in each car as he walked to the rear of the train. He saw lots of familiar faces, and isolated islands of first years looking just as terrified as he, Ron and Hermione had looked on *their* first trip to Hogwarts, but no Draco.  
  
Finally, in the third compartment from the rear, he found Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, but Draco was conspicuous by his absence. He lingered outside the compartment for several minutes, his palms sweating and his stomach twisting into knots as he tried to figure out how he could possibly go about starting to ask them where Draco was.   
  
Finally, he decided that he couldn't chance one of them seeing him lingering in the corridor, so, wiping his hands on his pants legs, he glanced into the final few compartments, and, not seeing Draco in any of them, headed back to his compartment.  
  
* * *  
  
Late that night, they pulled into the station and got into the carriage that would take them home to Hogwarts. {Home.} Harry thought. {It really has become my home, hasn't it? In a way that the Dursleys' never was.}  
  
His happiness as he saw the castle drawing nearer was diminished by his preoccupation with Draco's absence. {His father's still a loyal Death-Eater.} Harry thought. {I hope that no harm has come to him. Wouldn't put it past that bastard to turn his son into some kind of human sacrifice.}  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, now joined by Neville, wound their way into the Great Hall and staked out five seats at the Gryffindor table, facing the dais at the front of the room. After all of the students had been seated, except for the first years, who were still lined up in the back of the room, Dumbledore got up and began to speak.  
  
"Greetings, students. I would like to start with an announcement. Our Head Boy this year, Draco Malfoy," he paused while waiting for the reactions to settle down, which took several minutes, considering the celebration at the Slytherin table, "will be delayed in his arrival this year. Consequently, Ron Weasley will be filling in as Head Boy until Mr. Malfoy's arrival."  
  
The Gryffindor table burst into thunderous applause. Even a few of the Slytherins, those few who weren't sore winners, applauded politely. Ron blushed furiously. "Figures." He mumbled to Harry and Hermione. "Like first runner up in a beauty pageant." He forced a smile and looked around at the well-wishing Gryffindors around him.  
  
Dumbledore's announcement relaxed Harry slightly. {Dumbledore knows that Malfoy is gone and that he will be here. That means that everything's got to be all right. Doesn't it?}  
  
After the Sorting, and the banquet, the Gryffindors headed for their rooms. Ginny sent Neville on ahead, and hung back with Harry. "Are you all right?" She asked.  
  
Harry nodded, his gaze still directed inward. "Yeah. I'm fine." He forced his mouth into a smile.  
  
"That's good. 'Cause if there was something wrong, I'm sure you'd talk to someone about it. Right?"  
  
"Hmm?" Harry looked down at her. "Yeah. Right. Talk to someone."  
  
They continued the walk toward Gryffindor tower in silence. About halfway there, Ginny pulled Harry aside and waved her hand in front of his face. When he finally blinked and focused on her face, she said, "If you need to talk. About anything. You know where to find me. Right?"  
  
Harry smiled. "I haven't been very good company, have I? I'm sorry. I'm just a little preoccupied. And thank you for the offer. If I need to talk, I'll be sure to find you."   
  
They finished the rest of the walk back to Gryffindor tower in a more companionable silence.   
  
When they reached the portrait of the fat lady, Harry turned to Ginny. "I did mean that when I thanked you for the offer. You and I have shared secrets before, and I know that you'll be the person I come to if I need to talk."  
  
"You're welcome, Harry." Ginny blushed. She was long over her crush on Harry, but she still was a little overawed at the thought that she was friends with one of the most famous wizards of their generation.  
  
The pair hugged, Harry gave the fat lady the password, and they stepped into the Gryffindor common room.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, Harry awoke, wondering what had possessed him to be so worried about Draco Malfoy, of all people. {Dumbledore knows what's going on. I don't need to worry about it anymore.}  
  
He threw himself into conversation with Ron and Hermione. "So, who do you think we'll have for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?" He asked.  
  
"I don't know why Dumbledore doesn't just give the job to Snape and be done with it. After all, he keeps insisting that Snape's trustworthy." Hermione grumbled.  
  
"Yeah." Ron chortled. "And we can't seem to get rid of the git any other way. After a year in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, he'd be history, just like all of the others."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione responded, aghast. "That's no way to talk about a teacher! Even if he *is* Snape." She added.  
  
Harry caught some movement out of the corner of his eye, and stopped in his tracks. All that was there was a portrait of a witch in a 17th century powdered wig, who simply smiled at him benignly.   
  
"Harry?" Hermione called to him.   
  
Harry shook his head as if to clear it and caught up with his friends. "Sorry. I just thought I saw something."  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "All right. Stranger things have happened. Particularly with you around." Ron said as the trio began walking again.  
  
Around the next corner it happened again. Only this time, when Harry stopped to look, he only saw an old gentleman in wizards' robes of an indeterminate period grooming his mustache.  
  
"Something *is* going on." Harry insisted. "Ron, you can see better than I can with these glasses in my way. Keep a watch out on the portraits and see if you can catch anything."  
  
"All right . . ." Ron responded dubiously as they began walking.   
  
Just outside the Great Hall, Ron came to a sudden stop. "You're right, Harry. I saw it this time. Someone is going from portrait to portrait, whispering in their ears. I didn't recognize who it was, though."  
  
"Oh." Hermione said dismissively. "They've probably just got wind of some juicy gossip."  
  
"Yeah." Harry forced himself to relax. "You're right. Probably just gossip."  
  
They entered the Great Hall, and hurried to the Gryffindor table, where Ginny and Neville were saving seats for them. Ron and Hermione sat across from Ginny and Neville, and Harry sat next to Ginny.   
  
As Harry's breakfast appeared on the plate before him, Ginny reached over and squeezed his hand gently. "Is everything all right?" She asked him.  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks." He smiled at her gratefully. Though, truthfully, he'd been so wrapped up in what the portraits were doing that he'd completely forgotten his previous day's preoccupation with Malfoy's whereabouts.  
  
Hermione and Ron sat looking at him, forks halfway to their mouths, their jaws agape.   
  
"You guys all right?" He asked them.   
  
"Us? Yeah. We're fine. Nothing wrong at all." Ron and Hermione responded simultaneously, so that Harry couldn't tell which had said what. Then, without another glance in his direction, they went back to eating.  
  
Harry tucked into his food, fighting his natural tendency to want to help people and put things right. Every forkful, he repeated to himself that Draco was fine, that he'd be there any day, that Dumbledore knew where he was and what he was doing.  
  
Neville and Ginny stood to leave the table. "See you guys in Potions?" Neville asked.  
  
"Sure." Hermione smiled as Neville and Ginny walked, hand-in-hand, from the table.  
  
"They are sure a cute couple." Hermione gushed after Neville and Ginny left the room.  
  
"Yeah." Ron grumbled. "I guess. I'd be happier, though, if she hadn't fallen for a guy who's almost a squib. I mean, what's he going to do with his life?"  
  
"Excuse me, Ron Weasley!" Hermione leaped to her feet and put her hands on her hips. "I happen to know plenty of people who live perfectly happy lives without any magic whatsoever!"  
  
"Yes, but they're Muggles!" Ron protested, not realizing this was the wrong tack to take with Hermione, who then, without another word, stormed from the room.  
  
"What'd I say?" Ron asked Harry.  
  
Harry, not wanting to get into a discussion about it, simply shrugged. "Who knows?" He responded, and they finished eating their breakfast in silence.   
  
  



	2. The Solution/Rumors

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 2 - The Solution  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: It's J.K. Rowling's world. I just play in it.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
My deepest thanks to Rhysenn for the inspiration.   
  
Also, I've decided to take a college-like approach to their school days. They have six classes total - two two-hour classes in the morning and two two-hour classes in the afternoon on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and one three-hour class in the morning and one three-hour class in the afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday. It's the only way I could justify all of the hanging around after class and wandering around to greenhouses and things that the students at Hogwarts do.  
  
And thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1. I hope you approve of this. .  
  
And, yes, I know this is both Chapter 2 and Chapter 3! 8-)  
  
====================  
  
Chapter 2 - The Solution  
  
After breakfast, Ron and Harry hurried to the dungeon for Potions with Snape. The room was practically filled when they got there, so they had to sit at the front of the room.   
  
"Great." Ron said. "Just great. Now Snape'll be sure to call on us."  
  
"Serves you right for running late." Hermione sniped from her seat next to Neville. They had decided to try sitting next to each other in Potions, in hopes that Hermione's extraordinary scholastic ability would counterbalance Neville's exceeding bad luck.  
  
Soon after, Snape swept into the room. "Greetings." He addressed the class. "I trust you all had a pleasant term break?"  
  
His cold black eyes darted from one table to the next, taking in Harry and Ron first, then over to two Slytherins that Harry didn't know, then back a row to Hermione and Neville. Occasionally, however, his eyes would be inescapably drawn to the empty seat in the midsts of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson.   
  
After he finished his introductory speech and initial survey of the class, he continued speaking. "The first potion this term will take several weeks to prepare. Which will give some of you," he looked directly at Neville," plenty of time to find and rectify your mistakes."  
  
"Some of you who aspire to be aurors." Smirking, he looked at Harry, "Might find this potion to be helpful when confronted with Muggle technology. It's a universal solvent."  
  
He cleared his throat to still the mumbling that this announcement had inspired. "According to the laws of alchemy, of course, a universal solvent is a bad idea; for what do you store it in?" He offered the class a cold smile. "But this one is different. We tested it extensively over the break, and it does not become active until the final ingredient is added, and only stays active for as long as you keep the light of your wand on it."  
  
He continued with an hour-long lecture on the history, ethics, uses and pitfalls of universal solvents, and then introduced the laboratory portion of the Potions class. "To begin today's portion of the potion, you will need Whomping Willow sap, don't worry, you won't have to go out and get your own, there's plenty for everyone here," he held up a beaker, "unless you mess up, and then you'll have to start over with fresh tomorrow." He added with a cold smile at Neville.  
  
"The other ingredient you'll need will be scarab beetle feet." He held up a jar full of tiny black dots.  
  
Snape withdrew to his desk, where he began writing, while the students hurried to the front of the room to get their supplies. After everyone had returned to their seats and begun working, Snape began walking the aisles, watching the students at work, his eyes still drawn to Draco's empty seat.   
  
"*Anti*-clockwise, Parkinson. You're supposed to stir it anti-clockwise."  
  
Snape paced onwards, making small corrections to several students' works. Then he reached Hermione and Neville. "Longbottom! I said *scarab* beetle feet, not *ladybird* beetle feet! I thought that Granger would keep you from making these kind of bonehead mistakes, but," he sighed, "I guess not."  
  
"Now look here, Professor Snape!" Hermione stood up, facing Snape down. "I got those myself out of the very same jar as everyone else did!"   
  
"Hermione," Neville gently tugged at her sleeve.  
  
"Well, Miss Granger," Snape said with a cold civility. "I cannot explain that, because those are clearly ladybird beetle feet!"  
  
"Hermione," Neville attempted again.  
  
"What?!?" Hermione rounded on her lab partner.   
  
"I think he's right. See?" Neville held up a cauldron for her to see.  
  
Hermione stared down into the greenish-brown liquid. "That's the wrong color."   
  
"No, Hermione. It's the right color. Ours," he indicated their cauldron, with its reddish-brown liquid, "is the wrong color."  
  
Hermione blushed a fire-engine red, then sat down without another word  
  
Snape looked down at her and said calmly. "Five points from Gryffindor for insubordination, Granger."  
  
After class, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ron left the classroom together. Hermione was practically in tears. "I don't know what happened." She said. "I *know* I got those out of the correct jar. I just *know* it!"  
  
"It's all right, Hermione," Neville said, "that sort of thing happens to me all the time." He shrugged resignedly. "You thought you could help, but I guess you can't."  
  
Silence descended on the quartet for a moment. Then Ron broke the silence. "What I want to know is how you're going to get whomping willow sap before tomorrow."  
  
"Don't remind me." Hermione moaned.  
  
"I've got an idea." Harry, who had been silently thinking about Snape's preoccupation with Malfoy's empty chair, finally broke his silence. "Let's meet in the Gryffindor common room before lunch, and we can talk about it then."  
  
The foursome split up then, Hermione to Arithmancy, Ron to Divination, Harry and Neville, to an introductory meeting for students considering internships in Hogsmeade.  
  
"Why are you going?" Harry asked, making conversation.   
  
"Eh. You know, career choices aren't too broad for a near-squib like me. I figure that if I don't want to end up at a desk job, I'd better start looking at my choices. How about you? I mean, it's not like *your* choices are limited."  
  
Harry shrugged. "That's just it. I could be anything I want to be. But I was raised among Muggles, and have no idea what the choices are."  
  
"But what about becoming a professional Quidditch player? Most everyone thinks that's what you're going to do anyway."  
  
"That's not really what I want to do, I don't think. I'd much rather do something to help people."  
  
By then, they'd reached the classroom where the meeting was to be held. Harry quickly scanned the faces in the room, and aside from a few nodding acquaintances, didn't recognize anyone.   
  
They stepped into the room, and immediately, all of the students began whispering.   
  
"Harry?" Neville asked. "What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know. Harry shrugged, then they saw it. On the board at the front of the room, was a huge heart with the initials "G.W. + N.L." written in it. Only then the "N.L." had been crossed out, and two huge question marks were written next to them.  
  
Harry immediately put together what was going on. Peeves had somehow decided to start some kind of rumor about there being some difficulty between Ginny and Neville. Harry would have recognized the school poltergeist's handiwork anywhere.   
  
Neville, meanwhile, was doing a slow burn.   
  
"Neville, it's just one of Peeves's pranks." Harry reassured his friend while guiding him to a pair of empty chairs.  
  
Just then, a teacher that Harry had never had before walked into the room. She looked at the board, heaved a huge sigh, mumbled, "Peeves!" and then touched her wand to the board, said "_Induco!_" and the heart with its initials disappeared.  
  
The teacher turned and faced the students. "Most of you have never met me. I am Professor Officium, and I help seventh-year students who are undecided about their career choices make the best decisions for themselves. Now, we will be working with you all at a rate of about five per day, in alphabetical order unless . . ." her eyes scanned down the scroll listing the students who had signed up for this course. "Longbottom? Neville Longbottom?"   
  
Neville said, quietly, "Here, Ma'am."  
  
She sighed. "We'll be starting with you. And then we'll need Adams, Apricot, Banks, and Caldicott. For everyone else, you will receive an owl on the morning of your meeting with us. That will be all."  
  
As if they had somehow managed to Disapparate, most of the students were gone from the room. All except the five that Professor Officium had named, and Harry. Harry leaned over to his red-faced friend. "Do you need me to stay here with you?" He asked.  
  
Neville, trying to hold of humiliation tears back, shook his head. "No. Thanks. I'm all right."  
  
"Well," Harry offered. "If you need anything, you know where to find me. All right?"  
  
Neville nodded and gave Harry a watery smile. "Thanks."  
  
Harry spent the rest of the hour in the Gryffindor common room waiting for Neville, Ron and Hermione to return from their classes.   
  
First to arrive was Neville. "Hey." He smiled at Harry.   
  
"So? How'd it go?"   
  
"Actually, they think they might have found something for me to try right away." He paused. "Working with Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah." Neville sat down in the chair next to Harry's. "Most of what Madame Pomfrey does, she does with herbs and talismans and things. She only uses her innate magic for the really desperate situations, like when she grew your bones back."  
  
"Don't remind me." Harry grimaced, remembering the pain of having his bones dissolved and then replaced.   
  
"I probably won't ever be in charge, since I'm almost a squib, but as long as there's a fully-qualified witch or wizard on staff, I should do pretty well. They hope." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.  
  
Just then, Ginny came through the common room. "Hi!" She greeted Neville and Harry, sitting down next to Neville so that they were squeezed together into the one chair. Neville wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "What're you guys talking about?"  
  
Not wanting to embarrass Neville, Harry remained silent, allowing his friend to field this question.   
  
"I sort of mucked up the potion we were making in Potions this morning, and so we've got to figure out how to get the ingredient we need to re-do it tomorrow." Neville matter-of-factly told his girlfriend.  
  
"Oh." Ginny responded simply. "Can I help?"  
  
Harry and Neville looked at each other, and when neither indicated an objection, Neville said, "Of course you can," and kissed her.  
  
Ron and Hermione arrived then, and took a seat in two other chairs near Harry, Neville and Ginny.   
  
"So," Ron began. "What's this big plan you've got for getting the Whomping Willow sap?"  
  
"Well, it's not a big plan. I just didn't want to discuss this where Snape could hear." He paused and leaned forward, causing the other four to lean forward as well. "I say we use the Marauders' Map."  
  
Chapter 3 -- Rumors  
  
Harry leaned forward, causing the other four to lean forward as well. "I say we use the Marauders' Map."  
  
Ron's face broke out into a wide grin. "The Marauders' Map! Perfect!"  
  
"I'm not so sure that would be a good idea, Harry." Hermione added dubiously.  
  
Ginny's and Neville's faces were studies in confusion. "What's the Marauders' Map?" Neville asked before Ginny had a chance to.  
  
"It's a map my father and . . ." he paused while he debated whether to bring Remus, Sirius and Peter into it by name, "his friends made while they were students here at Hogwarts. It normally looks like a blank piece of parchment, but when you speak the correct words over it, it turns into this map that has the whole school laid out, secret passages and all, and has little dots on it indicating where everyone in the school is. So you can get in and out of the school without being discovered." He carefully omitted the fact that on more than one occasion, he'd used the map specifically to avoid Neville.  
  
Ginny's eyes were wide with delight. "Wow! I can't wait to see it!"  
  
"So, I figured that tonight, after supper, we can use the Map to get down into one of the secret passages that's blocked off by the Willow . . ."  
  
"And then collect the sap from down underground, where we'll be safe!" Hermione finished for him. "Brilliant! Though," she looked dubiously from one face to another, "there's five of us. Isn't that an awful lot to go sneaking around at night?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "We have more lookouts that way. I've gotten caught a couple of times, even with the map, because I just *can't* be paying attention to everything at once."  
  
"I'll stay behind." Ron and Ginny offered simultaneously.  
  
Harry looked from one Weasley sibling to the other. "Are you both sure?"  
  
Ron and Ginny nodded. "After all," Ginny said, "you'll need someone to convince anyone looking for you that you're all too busy to be disturbed."  
  
"Good point." Neville added, speaking to Ginny. "You can vouch for me, and Ron can vouch for Harry and Hermione."  
  
"So then it's decided. After supper, Ron and Ginny will sit here in the common room to distract anyone looking for us, and Neville, Hermione and I will go down to the Willow to get the sap." Harry concluded.  
  
Neville laughed. "I can't *wait* to see the look on Snape's face when we come in with Whomping Willow sap tomorrow morning!"  
  
* * *  
  
After lunch, the seventh-year Gryffindors had their Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid was more affable than usual, and Harry noticed that, much like Snape, Hagrid's eyes kept glancing at Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, only instead of concern, Harry saw relief in Hagrid's eyes.  
  
After Hagrid had explained that, beginning the next day, they'd be having visitors in for the rest of term, who would be bringing in magical creatures that are normally illegal under British wizarding law. "But don't worry." He added with a pointed glance in the direction of Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and the absent Draco, "I have a certificate of clearance from the Ministry to bring all of the animals into the country."  
  
After class, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville hung around to talk to Hagrid for a few minutes. After the half-giant had given each of them a huge bear hug, he asked, "I was afraid you all had outgrown coming to visit me, bein' seventh years and all."  
  
"Of course not, Hagrid," Harry responded. "It's just that . . . you know, I had some stuff on my mind last night that I needed to think about something, and Ron had to get over the shock of being named Head Boy." He grinned at his friend.  
  
"At least until Malfoy gets back." Ron sighed.  
  
After they'd left Hagrid, the foursome split up again, this time Harry and Ron decided that after hearing Hermione gush about her Arithmancy classes for four years, they'd take a chance on an introductory Arithmancy course themselves.  
  
All the way there, Harry was dogged with the feeling that he was being watched. "Ron," he whispered to his friend, "is someone watching me?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Everyone's watching you, Harry. You, after all, are the Quidditch hero. The Boy Who Lived. Everyone in school who doesn't want to *be* you, wants to date you."  
  
"And which are you?" Harry joked, but at the brief flash of discomfort in Ron's eyes, he immediately regretted the comment.  
  
"Are you really still jealous of me?" He asked.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Not really. I mean, only when I really think about it, you know? Like when you insist that everyone's watching you."  
  
"Not everyone." Harry insisted. "Just . . . someone. Like they're talking about me or something."  
  
Ron shook his head. "Well, I'll just have to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. If you say they're talking about you, well, maybe they are."  
  
Arithmancy class was just as much fun as Hermione always said it was. It turned out to be somewhat like what Harry's Aunt Petunia had always called "numerology," only with real magic. Instead of a dry lecture with a mind-boggling assortment of numbers, as they had expected, they spent the two-hour period working up the names of the students in the class using Arithmancy. "Remember," their teacher, Professor Ducat, warned them in her final comments, "these numbers, by themselves, are meaningless. As we will see later in this course, in order to glean any significance from them whatsoever, you will need other numbers to add, multiply, or compare these numbers to."  
  
The Arithmancy class let out, and Harry and Ron headed down to the Great Hall for supper. This time, they were so involved in trying to figure out the number of their friends' names that Harry neither noticed nor cared if people were talking about him.  
  
This, however, was to be a severe drawback, for if he had noticed, he might have had some warning when they entered the great hall and Neville came up and socked him right in the stomach.   
  
As Harry doubled over in pain, Neville yelled, "It's bad enough that Ron can't get anywhere with Hermione because of you! But now you're putting the moves on Ginny! I just won't have it!"   
  
Harry stood up, "Neville, what are you . . ." He didn't get any further than that, because Neville socked him again, this time a roundhouse punch to his face.   
  
Harry collapsed on the floor again.   
  
"Neville! Have you gone insane? What's gotten into you?" Ron yelled as he restrained the normally-calm Neville.  
  
"Come on! Everyone knows what's going on between him and Ginny!" Neville indicated Harry with a disdainful shake of his head. "It's all over the school."  
  
Ginny appeared from between the onlookers and rushed to Harry's side. "Harry! What's going . . . Neville?" She looked up into her boyfriend's furious, flushed face. "What's going on?"  
  
Neville squirmed from Ron's grasp and looked like he was about to go for Harry again, but Ginny threw herself in between the two men. "Neville!" She yelled above the din. "Please stop it!"  
  
"Of course you want to protect your boyfriend!" Neville yelled, his face growing even redder, if that was at all possible.  
  
"My what?" Ginny placed her hands on Neville's shoulders, looking directly into his eyes. "Please, Neville. Calm down. I want to talk to you."  
  
Ron, meanwhile, had moved to help Harry up off of the floor.  
  
Ginny's intervention seemed to have taken some of the anger out of Neville. He continued glaring at Harry, but allowed Ginny to direct him to the Gryffindor table.   
  
Just then, McGonagall came in. "Longbottom! Come here!" She called out sharply.   
  
Neville stood, looking sheepish. "Yes, Ma'am." He walked over to her.  
  
McGonagall looked at Ron. "Take him up to the hospital wing."  
  
"But I'm all right, Professor McGonagall." Harry protested, but when McGonagall gave him her best sharp look, he went quietly as Ron led him out of the room.  
  
Half an hour and one bruise-healing charm later, Neville and Ginny came up to the hospital wing to see Harry.   
  
"Sorry." Neville said sheepishly. "I should have known that neither one of you," he looked from Harry to Ginny, "would do anything like that to me, but since I'd heard it from several people, and then there was another heart with *your* initials and Ginny's in it in my next class . . ."  
  
"Don't worry about it." Harry gave Neville a lopsided smile. "If nothing else, I guess I figured out that the feeling I've been having all day that people are talking about me was right, and now I know what they were saying."  
  
"I also cost Gryffindor fifty points. And possibly messed up my internship with Madam Pomfrey."  
  
Just then, the witch in question came around the corner. "Ah. *There* you are, Mr. Longbottom." She said with pursed lips.  
  
"Yes, Ma'am."  
  
"I had a little talk with Professor McGonagall about your behavior this afternoon."  
  
Neville's face fell a little farther. "Yes, Ma'am."  
  
"And Professor McGonagall seems to be of the impression that I should give you another chance." Her tone gave no indication whether she agreed with McGonagall's opinion. "And, since you have no history of getting into trouble, *and* because all of the faculty have also heard the rumors about Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, I have to agree with her. You may start working here with me tomorrow morning."  
  
"Tomorrow? But what about Herbology?"  
  
"You'll be transferred to the Herbology class with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings."  
  
Neville blanched at this. "With the Slytherins?"  
  
"Come on," Ginny said in her most cheerful tone, "you're an absolute brain at Herbology. You'll run rings 'round the Slytherins *and* the Ravenclaws. Give 'em a reason to respect you."   
  
"You think so?" Neville asked hopefully.  
  
"I know so." Ginny affirmed, kissing him briefly on the lips.  
  
* * *  
  
After they had finished the dinner that Madam Pomfrey had the house-elves send up, the five Gryffindors returned to the Gryffindor common room. Or, at least, they returned to the hallway outside the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"No." The fat lady said flatly when Ron gave the password. "Not as long as *he* is with you." She looked directly at Harry.  
  
"Why not?" Ron demanded.  
  
"Because I know that he is trying to come between Mr. Longbottom and Miss Weasley." She responded.  
  
"Oh, come on," Harry insisted. "You can't mean that you believe that ridiculous rumor?"  
  
"Believe it? Of course I do. Heard it from your own mouths, I did."  
  
"What?" Neville responded.   
  
Simultaneously, Harry said, "When?"  
  
"Last night, the two of you were talking about a secret you were keeping from the others."  
  
Harry's and Ginny's eyes widened, and they looked at each other.  
  
"Oh!" Ginny covered her mouth to hide the way she gaped in surprise. "We weren't talking about that. It was another secret entirely."  
  
"Mm-hmmm." The fat lady said in a tone fully of skepticism.  
  
"Honestly." Ginny insisted. She looked from the fat lady to Neville. "Please. Harry and I will explain everything once we're inside, and if he accepts it," she looked back to the fat lady, "will you forget that it ever happened?"  
  
The fat lady sighed. "I guess so." She responded as she opened to allow the Gryffindors to pass inside to their common room. 


	3. Secrets

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 4 - Secrets  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: It's J.K. Rowling's world. I just play in it.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
For some unknown reason, I've been imagining Cristi Ellen Harris http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Studio/1210/images/harris4.gif) as Seventh Year Hermione. Just thought I'd let you know.   
  
====================  
  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny had retreated to Harry, Ron, Neville and Seamus's room. Seamus was in the library and, hopefully, wouldn't be back until after they'd finished talking. At any rate, they put a ward outside the door so they'd have plenty of warning that Seamus was coming if he did return before they were done.  
  
Ginny began. She sat next to Neville, and took his hand in hers. "It was my first year here at Hogwarts. You all remember," she looked from Neville, to Ron, to Hermione, and back to Neville again.  
  
"That was the year the Heir of Slytherin kidnapped you." Ron said in a tone that indicated he remembered his baby sister's disappearance all too well.  
  
"Well, 'kidnapped' isn't exactly the word I'd use." Ginny took a deep breath. "I think that 'possessed' is more appropriate."  
  
Ron, Hermione and Neville gasped. Neville's grasp on Ginny's hand tightened, and he reached an arm around her shoulders reassuringly.  
  
"You see, it started when I found a diary among my school books. The diary of a former Hogwarts student named Tom Riddle. I started writing in it myself, and it started answering me."  
  
"Answering you?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ginny nodded. "Tom Riddle had left a . . . piece of himself in it, so when I told it about how lonely I was, the book offered to be my friend. It listened to me when I told him how I missed my Mum and Dad, when I talked about how afraid I was that someone," she glanced up at Harry, "I idolized would never notice me, when I talked about how my brothers," she met Ron's eyes briefly, then looked back down, "talked down to me."  
  
"I never knew." Ron said apologetically.  
  
"I never meant for you to know." Ginny responded. "Eventually, I started doing things, without being aware of it. I woke up one day covered in rooster feathers. And another time with my hands covered in paint."  
  
"Then . . . he decided to capture Harry. So he made me leave the note that I'd been kidnapped and let Harry find me. Harry rescued me." She directed a tearful smile at Harry then. "And he kept my secret."  
  
"And the two of you have been the only people who've known this, for five years now?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not exactly. Professor Dumbledore knows. And Mum and Dad. They figured it'd be better if no one else knew what, exactly, had happened."  
  
Harry knew of someone else who knew - Lucius Malfoy - but he wasn't about to open that particular can of worms.  
  
Ron seemed on the verge of saying something else, probably something reproachful about how their parents could have kept a secret like that for five years, but instead he crossed to his sister and gathered her up in his arms and held her as tears streamed down both their faces.  
  
At this, Harry, Hermione and Neville also burst into tears, and the five of them sat, silently crying, for a long time.  
  
Finally, Hermione dabbed her eyes and said, "Well, the Whomping Willow sap isn't collecting itself. We'd better get going."  
  
"Just a second." Harry said as he stood and pulled his invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map from his trunk.  
  
"What's that?" Neville asked, indicating the cloak.  
  
"Umm. . . My invisibility cloak?" Harry said hopefully.  
  
"Right." Neville sighed. "Lots has been going on around here that I didn't know about, hasn't it?"  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded silently.  
  
"That's what I thought."   
  
After everyone had washed the traces of their tears from their faces, they left Ron and Ginny in the common room and, taking the invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map, their wands, and a couple of jars for the sap, they headed out. On the way by, Neville spoke to the fat lady.   
  
"You were mistaken." He said softly. "They explained everything, and the secret they were keeping isn't what you thought at all."  
  
"So?" She asked, leaning forward avidly, "what *was* the secret?"  
  
"Never you mind." He admonished her. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, would it?"  
  
It was just barely early enough for them to be out of their rooms, so they didn't bother with the invisibility cloak on the way out. They headed for the statue of a faun that marked the top of the stairs that led to the passage blocked by the Whomping Willow, and, making sure that no one was coming, pushed it gently aside.   
  
"There you go, Mr. Tumnus," Hermione whispered, patting it gently after they finished moving it.   
  
"Huh?" Neville asked.   
  
"Muggle book. Never mind." She whispered back as they headed into the tunnel, tripping the switch that'd move the statue back.  
  
They lit their wands and headed out.  
  
About quarter of an hour later, they arrived at the base of the Whomping Willow. The tree had settled during the four years since they'd last been down to that section of the grounds, and now a good section of trunk extended down into the tunnel.   
  
Hermione pointed her wand at the trunk and quickly whispered the words that would puncture a hole in the bark, and put first one, then the other, jar in the path of the sap that flowed out.  
  
After healing the wound in the bark of the tree, she quickly stoppered up the jars and handed one to Neville. Then the trio made their way back up the tunnel. They checked the Marauders' Map to see where Filch was, and confident that no one was in the hallway, moved the switch that would move the statue out. After they were out, they pushed the statue back into place and, just to be on the safe side, Harry threw the invisibility cloak over the three of them.   
  
"You sure this works?" Neville asked. "I can still see out."  
  
"Don't worry." Harry said. "I've done this lots of times, and the only person who could ever see me was . . ." He almost said 'Mad-Eye Moody,' but that just reminded him of all he went through in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Instead, he finished up with, "I've never had anyone tell me that they could see my disembodied face floating down the corridor. Now let's go before Filch catches us."  
  
They returned to the Gryffindor common room and celebrated, quietly, their victory. "Now I'm going to put a stasis spell on this one." Hermione indicated her jar. "Just in case." She shared a grin with an embarrassed Neville.  
  
On this note, Ginny crossed to her boyfriend and kissed his embarrassment away.  
  
"Oh, and by the way," Hermione said to Ron, "what, exactly, did Neville mean about you not being able to get anywhere with me because of Harry?"  
  
"Well, I'm off to bed," Harry announced, seeing that he wasn't needed there anymore. _I guess that by morning Ron and Hermione will finally be a couple._ He grinned as he started up the stairs for his room and fell into his bed, immediately sound asleep.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Harry was just walking into the prefects' bathroom, to get ready for the final trip to Hogsmeade of his sixth year at Hogwarts. He and Ron and Hermione were going to meet Fred and George, who had just made their millionth Galleon at their joke shop, and were taking Harry and his friends out on the village, as it were. _After, all,_ Fred, or was it George?, had written in the invitation, _we wouldn't even be *in* this business if you hadn't given us the stake to start it out with._  
  
Harry knew that they'd've found the money somehow, but he, Ron and Hermione did need a break, after the past year's brush with Death-Eaters, and so they accepted gratefully.  
  
He pushed the door open, just as Draco had reached for the handle, and so Draco ended up losing his balance, hitting the floor with a thud.   
  
Harry had offered his hand, but Draco has simply said, "Sod off, Potter."  
  
"Fine. Drop dead, Malfoy." Harry responded rolling his eyes.   
  
He watched as Draco opened the door and left the room, only instead of the hallway that really existed outside the prefects' bathroom door, Draco had walked straight into Voldemort's, red, burning eyes.  
  
~ ~ ~   
  
Harry awoke with a start and a yell. And his scar was hurting.


	4. The Return

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 5 - The Return  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling. Not to me.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.   
  
Yes, I love licorice. Especially black licorice jelly beans, and things like Good & Plenty, that stick to your teeth. And I've just loved the term "licorice allsorts" ever since I first heard the term on an old Two Ronnies episode.   
  
I'm *not,* however, particularly fond of cream cheese.  
  
====================   
  
"Harry?" Ron's voice came from beyond the curtains surrounding Harry's bed. "You all right?"  
  
"Yeah. Fine. Just had a bad dream."  
  
Ron pushed the curtains open and stuck his head in. "You sure?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I'm sure."  
  
"Because some of your bad dreams . . ."  
  
Harry sighed. "This was no more than an ordinary bad dream. I'm certain of it." He wanted to put the disturbing dream of Draco Malfoy behind him, so he decided that as long as Ron was up, he'd change the subject. "So, how did things go with Hermione after I left the room?"  
  
Ron grinned, and by the light of the gibbous moon outside, Harry could almost see his friend blush. "Things are all right."   
  
"You ironed things out?"   
  
"Um. . . Yeah. And I guess I didn't have any reason to be jealous of you, after all." His grin grew wider, if that was at all possible.  
  
Harry had to fight off a brief pang of jealousy when he realized that a social circle that had once been five friends, was now two couples, and him. He was now the only person in their group who had not paired off. "I'm really happy for both of you." He said, and meant it.  
  
* * *  
  
On his way down to breakfast the next morning, he ran into Ginny and Neville. "Hi, Harry!" Ginny smiled at him. "You wanna join us for breakfast?"  
  
Harry smiled back. "Sure. Thanks for asking. Though . . ." he paused. "Could I talk to you alone for a second?"  
  
"More secrets?" Neville asked good-naturedly.  
  
Harry tried to make it sound as minor as he could. "Just need a feminine opinion on a personal problem."   
  
"Then by all means," Neville walked away, leaving Ginny and Harry alone.  
  
Harry directed Ginny to a pair of chairs next to each other. "I had a nightmare last night, and when I woke up, my scar," he unconsciously touched the scar in question, "was hurting."  
  
Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh, Harry! Why are you even asking me? You've *got* to tell someone!"  
  
"It's because I don't think that there's any reason for it to have hurt. You see, the dream wasn't about Voldemort. It was about Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Yes, and, you see, *he* was what I was so worried about on Sunday night. He hadn't shown up, and I thought that maybe something had happened to him. So I'm afraid that my dream was only more of that same worry coming through."  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Has it ever occurred to you that there might be a *reason* why you were worried about him?"  
  
"Like what?"   
  
"Like maybe he's in some kind of trouble. What are you supposed to do when your scar hurts?"  
  
"Tell Dumbledore about it." He chose not to bring mention of his exiled Godfather, Sirius, into it.  
  
"Then that's what I recommend you do."  
  
"Ginny! Harry! Let's get going." Neville complained from the other side of the room.  
  
Harry stood and said so that Neville could hear. "You two go on down to breakfast. I think I'm going to take your advice."   
  
It didn't take Harry long to arrive at the gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's room, and after listing Honeydukes' sweets for several minutes, he finally hit on the one that made the gargoyle jump aside and let him through -- Licorice All-the-Other-Sorts, which, rather than being jellybeans, gumdrops, squares and those little pastel-colored things that look like round steak bones, come in all of the forms you *don't* expect licorice to come in - like bubble gum, little wax bottles full of licorice-flavored liquid, licorice-flavored "Pixie Sticks" and something that could best be described as "licorice brittle".   
  
Soon, the moving staircase had deposited Harry outside of Dumbledore's office. He knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in, Harry." Dumbledore called out.  
  
Harry, who had long since stopped even wondering how Dumbledore knew it was he who was standing outside, stuck his head into Dumbledore's office. "'Morning, sir."  
  
"Good morning, Harry. Don't just stand around in the entry like that. Come on in and have a seat."  
  
After Harry complied, Dumbledore handed him a plate. "Would you like something to eat?"  
  
"Thank you, Sir." Harry said, taking a piece of pastry covered in sticky icing from the plate. He bit into it, and found it to be full of apricot filling.   
  
Dumbledore took a pastry as well. "So, what brings you to see me so early in the morning?"  
  
Harry swallowed his latest bite of pastry. "I had a dream last night, sir. And my scar was hurting when I woke up. Though I don't think it really means anything . . ."  
  
"And why don't you think that it means anything?"  
  
"Because the dream wasn't about Voldemort, sir. It was about Draco Malfoy."  
  
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"It was a memory of something that happened the day of my last trip to Hogsmeade last year. I was coming into the prefects' bathroom, and passed Malfoy on his way out. And when I watched him leave, instead of seeing the hallway outside the bathroom, I saw Voldemort outside the bathroom. Or rather, Voldemort's eyes."  
  
"Did you?" Dumbledore said in an assessing tone. "Interesting. And then when you awoke, your scar was hurting?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Harry could tell from the expression that Dumbledore was mulling over the significance of something. But Dumbledore kept his expression neutral as he said, "Well, perhaps it doesn't mean anything. But thank you for letting me know and," he emphasized this part clearly, "be sure to tell me if your scar hurts any time again in the future."  
  
"I will, sir." Harry stood to leave, and as he left, Dumbledore offered the plate of pastries again. He took another one, which turned out to be filled with cream cheese.  
  
As he opened the door to Dumbeldore's office, he passed Snape in the hallway. He wasn't sure whether to speak to Snape or not, but Snape walked past him without acknowledging his presence, so Harry just sneaked past, trying not to draw his attention.  
  
Without knocking, Snape threw open the door to Dumbledore's office. "We've got to talk about Draco . . ." Harry heard before the door snicked shut behind Snape.  
  
Harry, knowing he was already running late for Herbology, decided against hanging around to eavesdrop, and instead munched on his cream cheese pastry as the staircase took him back down to the hallway below.   
  
He hurried from there to Herbology class, where Professor Sprout was beginning a lecture on which trees to grow for which specific purposes. Harry found Hermione and Ron quickly and whispered to them, "Did I miss anything?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "She just finished calling the roll."  
  
"Where were you this morning?" Ron asked.  
  
"I had to go see Dumbledore about something." Harry whispered back, not wishing to bring his dream of Draco back into it.  
  
"And who knows what the hawthorn tree brings protection from?" Sprout asked then.  
  
All of the students shrugged, looking from one to the other.   
  
Sprout looked disappointed, as she had gotten used to the outside reading that Neville had always done and could usually count on him for a correct answer.  
  
Sprout sighed. "It brings protection from lightning strikes." she said, as she continued the lecture.  
  
* * *  
  
After Herbology, Harry, Ron and Hermione went to lunch, where they met up with Neville and Ginny.  
  
"So?" Hermione asked their friend. "How did the first day in the hospital wing go?"  
  
Neville positively glowed. "It was wonderful! A Hufflepuff accidentally turned all of his hair into feathers in Transfiguration, and I actually *helped* turn it back into hair."  
  
The other Gryffindors, knowing full well Neville's tendency to turn any act of magic, no matter how small, into an unmitigated disaster, were duly impressed with this news, and they congratulated him with hugs and pats on the backs as unrestrained as if Neville had single-handedly won the House Cup for Gryffindor.  
  
"Thanks." Neville blushed after his friends had settled down. "And Madam Pomfrey says that if I keep this up, *she* will be helping *me* with cures by October."  
  
This began the rounds of celebration anew, after which they got their lunches.  
  
"If you keep going like this, there'll be a job waiting for you at St. Mungo's when you graduate," Hermione gushed a she tucked into her food.  
  
Harry gasped, and heard a corresponding intake of breath from Ginny.   
  
Hermione, having heard their gasps, looked from Harry to Ginny. "Did I say something wrong?"  
  
"No." Neville responded. "Of course you didn't." He looked at Harry curiously. "It's just that . . ."  
  
But Neville got no farther, for the room suddenly grew silent, and then a wave of muttering spread from the doors outwards, until it reached Harry at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Draco's back!" 


	5. What Has Been Kept Hidden

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 6 - What Has Been Kept Hidden  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Harry, Draco, Snape, and co. from J.K. Rowling, and I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
=====================  
  
Draco strutted from the entrance of the Great Hall to the Slytherin table, a smug smile on his face, as if he was enjoying the attention his midday arrival had generated.   
  
"Where were you, Draco?" "Yeah, what's up?" Voices around the seventh-year Slytherin asked.  
  
"People, people," Draco's voice projected dramatically, as if he were a Shakespearean actor, "there is no big mystery here. My father simply kept me home until after my eighteenth birthday." He smiled at them. "Such a big milestone. You know he wouldn't want his only son and heir to celebrate it while away at school."  
  
An approving rumble passed through the students crowded around him, full of mumbles of "happy birthday, Draco!"  
  
Harry sat, watching his nemesis, doing a slow burn. _All that worry, and for what? His birthday?_ He fumed. He noticed Ginny watching him, and rolled his eyes, grinning at her.   
  
She smiled back, only there was something else in her blue eyes - something like worry. "You all right?" She mouthed.  
  
He nodded shortly. "Yeah." He mouthed back.  
  
She gave him a warmer smile this time and nodded.  
  
After lunch, the Gryffindors had Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This year's teacher had been unusually secretive, and apparently had sworn the other classes to secrecy about who the teacher was, for everyone was completely surprised when Mad-Eye Moody walked into the room.  
  
"Some of you might recognize me from the . . . final few days of your fourth year at Hogwarts. My name's Alastor Moody, though you might know me by the nickname of 'Mad-Eye.'" He somehow managed to brandish his magical eye at them without it ever leaving his head.  
  
Moody continued. "Professor Dumbledore has asked me to teach this course this year because it seems there's a disproportionately large number of seventh years who want to become aurors this year.  
  
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has the idea that I can somehow prepare you for what you'd have coming as an auror. There isn't any preparation I can give you. The best I can do is," he took a drink from his hip-flask, "warn you about what you'll have coming if you *do* choose to become aurors.  
  
"Though maybe you'd believe it more coming from one of your own. Longbottom, why don't you tell them what happened to your parents?"  
  
Harry gasped. A murmur ran through the assembled seventh-year Gryffindors, and Harry could hear "Neville's parents?" "I thought he was an orphan." "What is Moody talking about?" and similar questions from his classmates.  
  
Harry briefly thought about trying a diversion. Maybe after he went into convulsions or something, Moody would forget the question he'd asked Neville.  
  
Then, to Harry's amazement, Neville stood. "Professor Moody," he said with an unearthly calm, "I would thank you to never mention my parents again." And with that one sentence, all of the color drained from Neville's round face, and he fell to the floor in a faint.  
  
Harry and Ron rushed to Neville's side and picked the other boy up off of the floor, holding him suspended between them. "'M all right." Neville mumbled groggily, bearing about one-quarter of his weight on his own feet. His eyes never opened.  
  
"Sir?" Harry asked. "May we take him down to the hospital wing? Sometimes he needs some time to recuperate when he's passed out."  
  
"Only one o' ya can take him down." Mad-Eye Moody responded testily. "The other one's gotta stay."  
  
Neville's eyes rolled open briefly. "Harry?" He said inquiringly.  
  
Ron sighed and released Neville's other side, returning reluctantly to his seat.  
  
Harry neatly adjusted his support of Neville to account for Ron's absence and supported his friend as they left the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Once they were down in the hospital wing, Harry helped Neville into a bed and they waited for Madam Pomfrey to come by.  
  
"Neville," she sighed as she pursed her lips, "did you eat lunch today?"  
  
"Yes ma'am." Neville responded.  
  
Harry decided to explain the emotions that made Neville pass out. "You should've seen him, Madam Pomfrey. Mad-Eye Moody was going to . . . say something he shouldn't've, and Neville stood up to him and stopped him. That's when he passed out."  
  
"Did he?" Madam Pomfrey smiled at her new intern. "That's the way, Neville."  
  
She finished her examination and said, "You'll recover, given time, just like always. Just rest here and I'll have some pumpkin juice and snacks sent up. For both of you, since I assume you'll be hanging around for a few minutes, Harry?"  
  
"No, ma'am. I've got to get back to class."  
  
After Madam Pomfrey left to place the order for Neville's snack, Harry stood to leave.  
  
"Harry?" Neville asked.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You know about my folks, don't you?"  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
"How'd you find out?"  
  
"Well, remember in fourth year? When . . . Barty Crouch was after me?"   
  
Neville took Harry's mention of Barty Crouch's name surprisingly well. "Yeah."  
  
"Well, I found some information on them while checking the records on Crouch's trial." Harry said, paring down the details to a minimum.  
  
"Oh." Neville nodded. "I suppose I'll have to tell Ron and Hermione about it soon. Ginny already knows." He added with a grin.  
  
"I figured she did." Harry returned the grin. "I'd better get back to class. Mad-Eye Moody's probably going to assign tons of homework tonight." He rolled his eyes.   
* * *  
  
Harry was right. When Neville came down to supper, Ron, Hermione and Harry cheerfully informed him how much homework they had in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  
  
"Great." Neville rolled his eyes. "Just what I needed. To fall so far behind at the beginning of the term."  
  
"Don't worry." Hermione smiled at him. "We'll all pull together, and we'll get through this. Ron always does."  
  
"Me?" Ron responded, affronted.   
  
"Yes, you." Hermione responded, removing the sting from her words with a kiss.  
  
"Well, all right, then." Ron said, kissing Hermione again.  
  
Once again, the room subsided into silence and the Gryffindors turned to look as Draco came into the room with the air of a king surveying his subjects. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.   
  
After Draco had taken his place at the Slytherin table, normal activity resumed in the room.  
  
"Speaking of Slytherins," Ron grinned at Neville. "You ready to take on the Slytherins and Ravenclaws in Herbology tomorrow?"  
  
"Don't remind me." Neville groused, his face blanching.   
  
Hermione smiled. "Don't worry, Neville. I'm sure you'll do just fine . . ."  
  
While his friends continued in this vein, Harry's eyes moved back towards Draco, who was laughing at something Pansy said, only the smile pasted onto his mouth didn't go any farther. There was something even more guarded than usual in Draco's silver eyes.   
  
Draco turned to face Harry, animosity glittering in his eyes. _Nothing new there,_ Harry thought as he wrenched his attention away from Draco.   
  
"Here's a pleasant thought." He grinned at Neville. "Just think about tomorrow morning, when Snape finds out that you got the Whomping Willow sap that you need."  
  
Neville laughed. "You're right. I can't wait!"   
  
Harry wondered why he'd brought Snape up, if he was trying to get his mind off of Snape's favorite student. His eyes drifted back to Draco. _What is going on in your head?_ Harry wondered, as Draco laughed maliciously at something either Crabbe or Goyle had said. _And why can't I shake the feeling that more went on yesterday than just celebrating your birthday?_  
  
* * *  
  
That evening, as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Harry sat in the common room working on their homework, Neville said, "Guys, I've got to talk to you about something."  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked, hearing the seriousness in Neville's tone.  
  
"Well, it's something that they don't talk about much, and so not many people know about me. About my parents, really." Neville reached over and took Ginny's hand for support. "You know that I was raised by my grandmother."  
  
"Yeah." Ron responded.  
  
"Well, I'm not an orphan." He seemed to think this wasn't enough, so he restated the same thought. "My parents are still alive."  
  
Neville glanced over at Harry for additional reassurance, and continued. "They're in St. Mungo's. You-Know-Who's Death-Eaters drove them insane."   
  
Hermione gasped, but other than that, no one said anything for a while.   
  
"But now you're learning medicine. That's good, right? Maybe someday you can help them get better." Hermione's eyes were bright with unshed tears.  
  
"Yeah." Neville said in a considering tone. "I guess maybe I can."  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, the Slytherins and Gryffindors gathered for Potions, and this time, the scornful tones of Draco's voice came from the table he shared with Pansy, as he shared tales of all that his father had done to make Draco's eighteenth birthday a success. "A real proper wizard's birthday. Not at all like some of these paupers, Mudbloods and squibs have." He projected clearly so that Harry and his friends could hear.  
  
Ron sighed heavily. "Good to see that Malfoy didn't outgrow his snobbishness over the summer."  
  
"Or since his _eighteenth birthday,_" Hermione said, mimicking Draco's tone. "Like he's the only person who's ever turned eighteen."  
  
Snape came into the room then, and immediately launched into another lecture on universal solvents - this time, it he covered more of the dangers, and the rules the wizarding world imposed on the use of similar potions. Harry took ample notes on Snape's lecture, but he noticed that Snape's eyes kept resting on Draco, not with approval for once, but with concern.  
  
Following the lecture, Snape wrote the ingredients for the second part of the potion on the board. "Of course, some of you," he looked at Neville and Hermione, "have some catching up to do from Monday's classes."  
  
"Actually," Hermione informed him smugly, "we're all caught up."  
  
"What? You can't be!" Snape walked over to Neville and Hermione's table and looked at their potion. Sure enough, it matched the other students' exactly. "How on earth did you manage that?"  
  
"Just resourceful I guess."  
  
"Potter helped you, didn't he? He has . . . a talent for getting around obstacles." Harry could hear the bitterness in Snape's voice.  
  
"Yes, he does, doesn't he?"   
  
Snape snapped his mouth shut at this. "Get to work, Granger." He said shortly.  
  
The laboratory portion of their class went smoothly, all things considered, the only casualty being the sleeve of Neville's robe, which got dunked in their potion and was now a pure, almost silvery, white. "Hmm." Hermione smiled. "My Mum would just love to get her hands on this potion. She's always complaining that she can never get the kitchen curtains white enough."  
  
As the class let out, Neville whispered to his friends, "Wish me luck." And then he followed a group of Slytherins down to Herbology.  
  
As Harry left the room, he heard Snape say, "Mr. Malfoy, will you please stay after class. We need to discuss something."  
  
This piqued Harry's interest. He had been watching Snape's face all class, and as the class progressed, had seen more worry than he thought Snape was capable of.  
  
"I'll see you guys later," he whispered to Ron and Hermione as he hung back to eavesdrop on Snape and Draco's conversation.   
  
Unfortunately, the only safe place he could find allowed him to hear, but not to see what was going on.  
  
"I hear that the day before yesterday was your eighteenth birthday." Snape said icily. "Many happy returns."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Draco responded in a faltering tone.  
  
"I remember *my* eighteenth birthday."  
  
"Do you, sir?"  
  
"Yes. I remember it well. And I got more than I bargained for on that day."  
  
"Really?" Draco's voice cracked.  
  
"Yes." Snape paused. "Show me your arm."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. Show. Me. Your. Arm."  
  
Harry heard the rustle of robe fabric, and Snape's sharp intake of breath.  
  
Then Harry heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and, fearing being caught, he turned and ran. 


	6. Fear

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 7 -- Fear  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Harry, Draco, Snape, and co. from J.K. Rowling, and I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.   
  
In honor of Plumeria's birthday, I give you the first occurrence of Harry with butterflies in his stomach over Draco (he also gets goosebumps, but that's due to something entirely different), *plus* an extra bonus innuendo from Ron ::vbeg::  
  
=============  
  
Harry ran. He ran as if his life depended on it. He ran until his lungs hurt.  
  
Finally, he collapsed, panting, against the wall in the corridor outside the Great Hall. His head was spinning with the implications of the conversation he overheard between Snape and Draco. _I've got to get out of here._ He headed out the front door of the castle and across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut, where Hagrid was just walking out the front door.  
  
"Hi, Hagrid!" He called to his friend.  
  
"Good morning, Harry!" Hagrid responded. "Here to see if you can get an advance peek at this afternoon's lesson?"  
  
Truthfully, Harry had completely forgotten that Hagrid had promised a "mystery tour" of sorts for this year's Care of Magical Creatures class, but thought this might be a good diversion from the troubling thoughts that were plaguing him. "Sure. What've you got coming up?"  
  
"Oh, no you don't." Hagrid smiled. "You'll just have to wait and be surprised with everyone else." His eyes twinkled.   
  
Hagrid went on about his duties. First, he and Harry fed the giant squid, then they walked the perimeter of the lake to find any dead fish that washed up on shore, which Hagrid and Harry then threw to the ewer-plants that bounded the rose garden. Harry had developed a pretty good aim over the years, and could get a carp in on the first try over ninety percent of the time.  
  
"So," Hagrid said as they washed the fish scales from their hands. "What brings you out to see me?"  
  
"Just wanted to spend some time with a friend." Harry responded, but Hagrid's question brought all of Harry's concerns crashing down around him again.  
  
The half-giant smiled gently and said, "Harry, this is Hagrid you're talking to. I've known you for six years, and one thing I know is that when you're worried about something, it's written all over your face. So what is it?"  
  
"Have you heard any . . . rumors about Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"Rumors? What kind of rumors?"   
  
"About what he was up to that kept him from coming back from term break on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of us."  
  
Hagrid's eyes narrowed. "Whatt'er you gettin' at, Harry?"  
  
Harry sighed. "I'm not sure. But I had a dream about Draco . . . And when I woke up, my scar was hurting."  
  
The half-giant sat down heavily on the stone balustrade that lined one of the walkways. "What kinda dream?"  
  
"It was just like something that happened between me and Malfoy at the end of sixth year, only . . . it ended with Malfoy walking towards Voldemort, instead of into the hallway."  
  
"And then your scar hurt?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes. And then something happened today." He paused. "I overheard Snape and Malfoy talking."  
  
"Overheard?" Hagrid asked with humor.  
  
"Well, all right, I was eavesdropping. But that doesn't change what I heard."  
  
"What did you hear?"  
  
"Snape congratulated Malfoy on his eighteenth birthday, then he said something about the significance of his own eighteenth birthday. And then he asked to see Malfoy's arm."  
  
"His arm?" Hagrid ran his hand over his chin consideringly. "I could think of any number of things that could mean, you know, Harry. But now I've got a question for you. Why do you care?"   
"Don't you think I should care that he might be up to something, particularly with the number of Dark wizards I've upset in the past few years?"  
  
"Of course you should care about that. Let's put it this way. Would you be surprised if he was actually doing something evil?"  
  
Truthfully, Harry wasn't certain. He knew that Draco certainly talked big, but as for whether he'd actually *do* anything . . ."I'm not sure. I guess not. Maybe."   
  
"How about this. Do you trust him?"  
  
Harry snorted. "Not bloody likely."  
  
"So even if he was going to do something evil, he wouldn't be able to get at you when your guard's down and be able to hurt you, could he?"  
  
"I guess not."  
  
"Well then, I'm gonna ask you again. Why do you care?"  
  
"I don't know." Harry finally sighed.   
  
By then it was time for lunch, and so Harry and Hagrid walked up to the castle, but parted ways at the Great Hall, where Hagrid went to eat with the faculty and Harry headed for the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Hey, Harry. Trying to get the inside scoop on what we're doing in Care of Magical Creatures today?" Ron greeted him when he saw Harry part ways with Hagrid.  
  
Harry laughed. "No. And even if I was, Hagrid's not telling." He decided to discuss his concerns with his two best friends. "I've had something on my mind lately."  
  
Ron asked, "What?" and Hermione leaned forward to hear Harry's answer.  
  
Harry sighed. "I need your help. Can either of you think of any way to get a look under Draco's sleeve?"  
  
"Under his sleeve?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You wanna get into Draco's robes?" Ron teased.  
  
Harry sighed impatiently. "I need to see if there's any. . . markings on his left forearm. I eavesdropped on Snape asking to see his arm. And all I can think of is that it could mean bad things for me. I just have to know for certain."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I guess we could come up with something. A gravity-reduction charm to make his sleeve float upward?"  
  
"Pity weather-working's been banned. A good stiff wind . . ." Ron's voice faded, leaving Harry to wonder if he was thinking of a gentle breeze blowing Draco's sleeve up, or fantasizing about knocking the Slytherin over with a gale-force wind.  
  
"Maybe," Hermione grinned, "you could just bump into him and knock him over, and pull his sleeve up as he falls."  
  
Ron looked his girlfriend up and down with approval. "I like the way you think, lady." He kissed her.  
  
Harry sighed. Figured they'd come up with a plan like that. But then, he had to admit, sometimes the direct approach was the best way.   
  
Soon afterward, Neville and Ginny arrived, and Neville was positively beaming.  
  
"Herbology went well?" Hermione asked.  
  
Neville nodded. "Sprout asked about the uses of poplar trees, and not even any of the Ravenclaws knew that they were once used for flying potions, back before flying potions were banned." He grinned.  
  
"She really seemed to miss you on Tuesday," Hermione informed him. "You always used to know the answers when no-one else did. I'll bet she's glad she didn't lose you completely."  
  
After lunch, the seventh-year Gryffindors walked outside for their Care of Magical Creatures class. All of the students were abuzz with anticipation, wondering what Hagrid had planned for them.   
  
At least, all of them besides Harry were. He was too concerned with trying to figure out how to nonchalantly bump into Draco. _Or should I go ahead and make it look intentional? Might be fun to play the same, 'Oops, did I do that?' game that Draco and his buddies play with me._ Harry glanced over at Draco, his mouth dry, his palms moist, and his stomach tied in knots. _Amazing how your mouth gets dry just as your palms start to sweat. I wonder if we have auxiliary salivary glands on our palms that kick in when we're nervous._ He realized he was babbling. _Well, might as well get it over with._  
  
He took his first step toward his nemesis, but was halted in his tracks by a looming shadow and the sound of huge wings overhead. He looked up, and saw the sun blotted out by the . . . largest . . . dragon he had ever seen.  
  
Now, it's easy to say that *any* dragon is the largest dragon you've ever seen when you live in England, where they've been outlawed for generations, but Harry had, in fact seen five dragons in his first six years at Hogwarts - the first had been Norbert, a hatchling that Hagrid had been raising during Harry's first year. Then, during Harry's fourth year, he'd been the unexpected fourth competitor in the Triwizard Tournament. The first task of the tournament had been to get an egg away from a dragon, and Hagrid had shown him all four dragons, not just the one he had competed against. And those dragons had been big, but this dragon. Was. Enormous.  
  
It was difficult to make out any details, backlit as the dragon was by the early-afternoon sun, but when it came for a landing, all of the Gryffindors, and most of the Slytherins, gave a gasp of pure awe.   
  
The dragon was the purest, blackest, black. At first, Harry thought it was a Hungarian Horntail again, but Hermione was the first to recognize the dragon for what it, or rather, he, was. "It's Norbert!" She whispered to her friends.  
  
"What's a Norbert?" Neville asked.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked guiltily at him. "He's a dragon we knew in first year. Hagrid . . . found the egg, and after he'd hatched, we helped him get in touch with Charlie so we could get him safely out of the country."  
  
Neville gave the other three Gryffindors his usual _there was a *lot* going on that I didn't know about_ look and simply said, "Oh."  
  
Hagrid was beaming as Charlie Weasley climbed down from the saddle that had been slung over Norbert's back.  
  
"Charlie!" He said as he hugged the former Hogwarts student, who had made a career working with dragons in Romania, "So glad you could make it!"  
  
Charlie grinned at Hagrid, then turned to address the assembled students. "Hi. I'm Charlie Weasley, and this, if I needed to tell anyone, is a dragon." He swept his arm upwards towards Norbert.  
  
"His name is Norbert," _'See?' Hermione whispered to Ron and Harry,_ "and his breed is the Norwegian Ridgeback. Now, normally the Norwegian Ridgeback is not used to carry passengers because of the *ridge* on his *back,* but we had a special saddle made so that I could bring him here to visit you.  
  
"Truthfully, we don't normally keep Norwegian Ridgebacks at our facility in Romania, since they are normally *extremely* aggressive. Norbert, however is rather special. You see, he was hand-raised by humans."  
  
The sounds of amazement going through the assembled students raised goosebumps on Harry's skin. He shared a secret smile at his friends, who knew the 'humans' who had raised Norbert.  
  
"And having been hand-raised by humans, Norbert is one of the most human-socialized dragons we've ever had at our facility.  
  
"Now, if you'll all come forward, one at a time, I'll show you how to touch a dragon properly, and then we can spend some time talking about their care, feeding and habits. Some of my co-workers will be bringing some less-sociable dragons on Friday, as well, so you can see how the behavior differs between socialized and feral dragons."  
  
The Gryffindors and most of the Slytherins soon lined up for the chance, but Harry noticed that Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and Draco held back. "What's the matter?" He called out to the quartet. "Afraid of the dragon?"  
  
"I'll show you who's afraid." Crabbe said as he advanced on Harry.  
  
"Crabbe. Don't." Draco's simple order stopped Crabbe in his tracks.  
  
Harry blinked twice. _That was odd. Crabbe usually puts up some sort of argument. Crabbe's, Goyle's and Malfoy's fathers were followers of Voldemort. Perhaps Draco's become one as well. They'd be especially obedient then, wouldn't they?_  
  
"Yep. You're afraid." Harry baited the four Slytherins flapping his arms and making a chicken noise.   
  
Harry's voice carried beautifully, because once they realized that Harry and Draco were about to face off, the rest of their class had gone utterly silent, waiting for Draco's response.  
  
"Fine. You think we're afraid? We'll show you. Show 'em." And that simply, the other three got obediently into line to touch the dragon. Harry noticed that left Draco alone. Completely unprotected.  
  
His heart beating a mile a minute, Harry stepped out of line, and advanced, as calmly as he could, on Draco. Draco didn't notice; his attention was entirely focused on Norbert, as if he expected the Norwegian Ridgeback to explode, or scoop him up in one taloned claw and eat him.   
  
Harry knew then what his best chance was if he could wait until Norbert made a noise or sudden movement, knocking Draco over would be easy. He sidled over to Draco and waited.  
  
He didn't need to wait long, though, for one of the Gryffindors accidentally hit a ticklish spot, and Norbert threw his head back in a tremendous yell.   
  
Draco flinched, and Harry reached out and gently _nudged_ him. Draco lost his balance easily, and as he fell, he looked up at Harry, terror in the depths of his silver eyes.   
  
And when he saw that profound fear in Draco's eyes, Harry could no more have grabbed his sleeve than he could have kicked him. Instead, he did what came naturally. He held out a hand. "Here, let me help you up."  
  
The fear in his eyes faded, to be replaced by anger, while Draco's face flushed in humiliation. "I don't need your help." Draco snarled, shoving Harry's hand away roughly.  
  
This time it was Harry's turn to blush, when he looked up from Draco and saw every seventh year Slytherin and Gryffindor watching them. _It's like we're some kind of spectacle or something._ He thought.  
  
Once he saw that Draco was standing, Harry, face still burning, walked back towards Ron, Hermione and Neville for the rest of the class.  
  
Word that there was a dragon on campus -- a socialized one that people could actually touch! - had spread like wildfire on campus. Every student on campus came by "for a few minutes before class." But soon it became obvious that, with every student on campus outside, they weren't going to be having a second afternoon period on that particular Wednesday. 


	7. Change Thy Thought, That I May Change My...

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 8 -- Change Thy Thought, That I May Change My Mind  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Harry, Draco, Snape, and co. from J.K. Rowling, and I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N - I'm afraid that some of Hermione's actions in this chapter might be seen as "character assassination," so I'm going to step out of my role as narrator here for a second to explain. I've always seen the Harry Potter wizarding world as a place of wish-fulfillment - where the quiet, overlooked kid is the hero, where magic is real, where anything you want to happen can happen. However, the muggle world is our own reality, so it seemed to me that Hermione's reaction in this chapter makes sense, given her upbringing in the muggle world.  
  
And the chapter title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet X (http://www.shakespeare-sonnets.com/text/1-10.php3#10) and I chose it because, well, Harry and Draco are both going to have a lot of changing to do, and perhaps that change will start in this chapter . . . .   
  
=============  
  
As Harry stared across the Great Hall at Draco, the memory of the young Slytherin man staring up at him, gray eyes full of terror, kept replaying in his mind, over and over again.  
  
He heard a voice saying, "Harry? You there, Harry?" And focused on Charlie Weasley, who was seated next to him, across from Ron.  
  
"Yeah. I'm here." Harry gave Charlie a distracted smile. His eyes drifted back across the room to Draco.  
  
"Could've fooled me." Charlie followed the line of Harry's sight. "You're watching Draco Malfoy?" He asked, surprised.  
  
"Malfoy? What's he doing that's so interesting?" Ron asked.  
  
"Nothing now." Harry admitted. "But I just found out something."  
  
"You found out . . . about what we were talking about before?" Ron responded, casually brushing his left arm.  
  
"No." Harry shook his head, his attention still focused on Draco. "He's afraid of dragons."  
  
Ron snorted. "Maybe then you should go work with Charlie. That'd keep Malfoy out of your hair."  
  
Hermione's mouth twitched. "I just think it's funny that he's afraid of dragons, and his name means _dragon._"  
  
"I wonder if it's a family trait," Ginny began, but started giggling before she could finish her thought.   
  
However, Neville did the honors, with "I bet you could scare Lucius off with the _lumos_ charm, then."  
  
By then, Harry's friends were all hysterically laughing, tears rolling down their faces. But somehow, Harry didn't find it funny.  
  
"I mean it." He insisted seriously. "I'm not talking about just a little anxiety here. He was terrified. Absolutely terrified." He repeated.  
  
At the gravity of Harry's tone, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Charlie tried to force their laughter to stop, but soon burst out laughing again.  
  
Harry wished he could find Draco's situation as amusing as his friends, but after seeing the abject terror in Draco's eyes, he just couldn't - it wasn't in his nature to exploit someone's weaknesses, even an enemy.  
  
Ron looked at Harry, and stopped laughing long enough to say, "You're not laughing."   
  
Harry shook his head sadly. "I can't."  
  
"But this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about here." His red-haired friend insisted.  
  
Harry just sighed. "I can't explain it. And even if I could, you'd never believe me."  
  
* * *   
  
After breakfast on Friday morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville walked down to the dungeon together for Potions. As they walked, the aroma became increasingly pungent.   
  
"You suppose something's gone bad down here?" Ron asked.   
  
Hermione shook her head. "I was in the restricted section yesterday and saw the formula for the solvent we're making. It's supposed to smell like this." Nevertheless, she waved a hand in front of her nose as if to blow the odor away.  
  
"After two hours of this smell, I'll be *glad* to have Herbology next. Even if it is with the Slytherins."  
  
"Well, we won't be glad to have you around." Draco sneered as his group walked past.  
  
Ron's comeback was stopped before it started when they turned the next corner and walked into the room. The smell was so strong there, that Harry would almost have sworn that he could see the stench rising from the cauldrons.   
  
The four Gryffindors took their normal seats on the far side of the room just as Snape was stepping up to his table.  
  
"Today," he informed them, "we will not be taking lecture notes first. We will, instead, be putting in the next-to-last ingredients in our cauldrons, which should have the effect of . . . dampening this lovely fragrance somewhat."  
  
Snape wrote the instructions on the board and the students hastened to follow the instructions. Neville's sleeve (the right one this time, not the left one that had previously been bleached by the potion) caught on the edge of their cauldron and very nearly tipped it over, but Harry saw it and, proving that his Seeker's talent hadn't disappeared over the break, caught the cauldron, avoiding spilling a single drop.  
  
Afterwards, Snape began his lecture by telling them what would come next in this potion. "Now the potion is effectively complete. All that it needs now is a few days to cure, and then the final ingredient." Snape picked up a small jar filled with some kind of tiny blue objects, between his middle finger and thumb, holding it aloft. "And so next Friday we will begin practicing with this potion, in which case, Mr. Longbottom might find it prudent to don some protective garments before class."  
  
At lunch, Harry was watching Draco again, and what he saw surprised him. Draco was lonely. Not alone -- never alone -- but during unguarded moments, when Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy were planning or performing some act of malice, Harry would see something very like loneliness on his face.  
  
_It's almost like,_ Harry thought as they sat in the Great Hall during Friday lunch, _they're his co-workers, rather than his friends, and their job is causing damage and destruction._  
  
He was interrupted in this by the arrival of Charlie Weasley and another man, tall, with wavy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.   
  
The blond man took a seat between Charlie and Ginny, and then leaned over and exchanged a warm hug with Ginny. "Hey, Ron." He smiled across the table at Charlie's younger brother.  
  
"Hi, Trent." Ron returned the smile. "Charlie said that you might be able to make it."  
  
Charlie introduced the blond man around to Harry, Neville and Hermione as simply Trent.  
  
"What's your last name?" Hermione asked.  
  
Trent's food had just appeared on the table in front of him, so as he placed his serviette on his lap, he smiled at her. "Weasley."  
  
Harry couldn't believe that this blond man was a Weasley. He looked from one red-haired, befreckled Weasley sibling to the next, searching in vain for a resemblance.   
  
But before he could form the words, Hermione stepped in, "You don't look like any Weasley I've ever met."  
  
"That's because it's his married name." Ron said simply.  
  
"Married name?" Harry and Hermione asked together.  
  
"Yes. Well, my name before we got married was Kent, but it's a Muggle name. Weasley is an established wizarding name, so I took Charlie's name, rather than the other way around."  
  
"I told you I would change my name if you wanted me to," Charlie insisted.  
  
Their discussion was interrupted when Hermione dropped her fork with a clatter. "You two're married?"  
  
"Yes." Charlie said.  
  
"Married? Like my Mum and Dad married?" She repeated.  
  
"You're a Muggle-born, too, aren't you?" Trent grinned at her. "More like Arthur and Molly Weasley, though, since they got married the same place we did - the wizarding chapel in Avebury."  
  
Dumbledore stopped by their table then. "Trent! Trent Weasley!"   
  
Trent stood and the two men hugged.   
  
"I haven't seen you since your wedding." Dumbledore grinned from Trent to Charlie and back again. "Married life treating you well?"   
  
"Yes, sir." Trent grinned down at Charlie. "We're very happy."  
  
Just then, Dumbledore looked across the room and made eye contact with McGonagall. "I've got to go. Come up to my office and visit me. You'll be staying the week-end?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
McGonagall was clearly trying to indicate that she needed Dumbledore's attention immediately, so he said, "Potter there can help you with the password. He nearly always figures it out." He winked at Harry before he left the Gryffindor table.  
  
As Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville walked from the Great Hall to the field on the other side of campus where Care of Magical Creatures was being held that day, to keep the feral dragons away from the majority of the student body, Hermione kept talking about Charlie and Trent's marriage.  
  
"But it just doesn't feel right to me."  
  
"What's not right? Two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together. Seems perfectly sensible to me." Neville made his first contribution to the subject.  
  
"But my parents always told me that marriage was for a man and a woman. Not two men or two women." She insisted.  
  
"Your parents," Harry smiled at her, "also told you that you needed to wait for the braces to straighten out your teeth."  
  
"Not you, too!" Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"I'm not taking a side," Harry said. "I really don't know enough about it to make a decision yet. But you certainly went against your folks' wishes when it came to your teeth."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I know, but just the idea of two men together, like that." She gave a small involuntary shudder.  
  
By this time, they'd reached the field where Care of Magical Creatures was being held. There Hagrid waited with Charlie and Trent and a few others that Harry didn't recognize. As Harry looked around, he could see all of his fellow seventh-year Gryffindors, and all of the seventh-year Slytherins, with one exception. Draco Malfoy was missing.  
  
"Hey!" Ron called to Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy when they passed them. "Where's Malfoy? Not still scared, is he?"  
  
The three Slytherins bristled at that.   
  
"For your information," Pansy said, "Draco isn't feeling well. He had to go to the hospital wing."  
  
Ron snorted. "Probably just nerves, since we're seeing more dragons. He probably had to change his underwear as well."   
  
Harry sighed heavily, sorry that he'd mentioned Draco's phobia of dragons. Ron was enjoying knowing about Draco's weakness far too much.   
  
"He very nearly fainted!" Pansy responded, not realizing that this was not the most persuasive argument she could have come up with.  
  
Ron was about to respond to this, but was brought up short by Hagrid's booming voice. "All right now, everyone gather 'round here. Charlie's gonna tell you about some of these wild dragons."  
  
At dinner that evening, Harry stood just inside the door of the Great Hall. He was hungry, but all Ron had been able to talk about since Care of Magical Creatures was how Harry was right -- that Draco really was afraid of dragons. And the more Ron talked, the more guilt-ridden Harry was about having mentioned it in the first place. _I just don't like taking advantage of people's weaknesses._ He fumed. _What part of that doesn't Ron get?_  
  
Harry had a box of chocolate frogs in his trunk, and he decided that would do, and if he got hungry for real food later, he could always come down and visit the house-elves later. They might have been given their freedom, but all that meant was that money was collecting in their names at Gringott's. Their devotion to the service of the students and faculty of Hogwarts hadn't diminished in the slightest.  
  
He spun around to leave the room, and ran smack into Draco.   
  
"Watch where you're going, Potter." Draco snarled.   
  
"So-rry." Harry drawled and made to leave the room, but then he stopped. "Hey, Malfoy."  
  
"What?" Draco stopped in mid-stride and faced him.  
  
"Let me in on a secret, would you?"  
  
"Gladly."   
  
"Why have you always hated me?"  
  
By now, the room was silent, and Draco's voice reverberated from the starry ceiling. He began enumerating points on his fingers. "First, you rejected my House. Oh, don't pretend you didn't ask the Sorting Hat not to Sort you into Slytherin. Word gets around in this school, Potter.   
  
"Second, you rejected my offer of an alliance." Harry noticed Draco didn't use the word _friendship._  
  
"Third, you got all the breaks. You get approval just for living. Rules seem to somehow break themselves in your presence. Like being named Gryffindor Seeker in first year.  
  
"But right now." Raw anger burned in Draco's voice, which had lowered, becoming both deeper and quieter, as if Draco was sharing a terrible secret. "Right now, I hate you because you had parents who loved you enough to die to save you from the Dark Lord, while my father *sold* me to him."  
  
With this, Draco slid his left sleeve upwards on his arm, revealing the Dark Mark, black as pitch on his snowy white skin.  
  
And without another word, Draco pushed past Harry and left the Great Hall. 


	8. Untitled

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 9  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowling's universe. I just play here.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: Everyone sit around me in a circle for storytime. Once upon a time there was a fanfic writer who had a vision. A vision of a touching love story between two people who came from different worlds, yet were more similar than they were different, and how they found each other. Only, there was something missing. The fanfic writer knew in detail the history of one, but couldn't quite get a grasp on the most important aspect of the other's history - his relationship with his father. Then, one day, she saw a story by a writer by the name of Rhysenn. Rhysenn's story filled in that missing gap perfectly. So, the fanfic writer approached Rhysenn and asked if she could take that story as part of her story's history. And Rhysenn said "yes."   
  
In other words, if you want to see what happened the night of Draco's birthday, when he received the Dark Mark, check out Rhysenn's story "Slave of Darkness." You'll be glad you did. And once again, many thanks, Rhysenn, for letting me borrow it.  
  
=============  
  
For a long moment after Draco left the room, Harry was rooted to the spot by shock. He had expected that the Dark Mark would be there, but he hadn't expected it to look so diseased - like a spot of blight on the smooth whiteness of Draco's arm.   
  
As suddenly as it had hit him, the stunned paralysis was gone. He could move again. He had to move. He had to find Draco, talk to him, find out what he meant when he said that Lucius had sold him to Voldemort.  
  
Harry stepped into the hallway. First, he looked toward the front doors of the school, but decided that Draco wouldn't have gone outside. Then he looked the other direction, deeper into the castle. That had to be it. Draco would have gone someplace he felt safe, either the Slytherin Tower or Snape's dungeon. Since he couldn't get into the Slytherin Tower by himself, Harry figured that it would be better to start looking in the dungeons.  
  
The torches that lined the dungeons had burned out, so Harry performed the _lumos_ charm and used that bit of light to illume his journey along the stone corridor. The doors to Snape's office and the Potions room were both closed, but he saw a soft glow coming from under the Potions room door. He opened the door and saw a dark shape huddled over one of the tables. Hoping that the shape was Draco, he walked closer, but was still unable to make out any details in the dim light.   
  
"Malfoy?" He asked hesitantly as he approached the shape. But no answer came.  
  
He continued walking, holding his wand out in front of him like a talisman. He could see that the shape was Draco, but he still did not acknowledge Harry's presence.   
  
Finally, when he was close enough to touch him, he could see that Draco was holding his wand in his right hand and pointing it towards his left forearm, all the while, mumbling incoherently. Draco's Potions class cauldron sat, empty, next to his right elbow.  
  
The understanding of what Draco was doing hit Harry like a bucket of cold water. _The universal solvent!_ He thought, as the blood drained from his face. The light emanating from Draco's wand illuminated what was left of Draco's arm.   
  
Harry had seen a lot of awful things since he started at Hogwarts - the Bloody Baron, Wormtail shifting from his rat to human form, that horrible fetus-like thing that Voldemort had been reduced to - but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of what Draco had done to his arm. It was bloody, and it was . . . bubbling. Draco's face was contorted in pain, but he kept his eyes screwed shut and held his wand steady as a rock as he mumbled under his breath.  
  
Remembering from Snape's lectures that the solvent would only work as long as wandlight was on it, Harry reached over, knocking the wand from Draco's hand.  
  
As if the wand had been holding him upright, the moment it left his hand, Draco fell over in a slump on the table. Harry quickly grabbed one of the extra robes Snape kept in a closet and wrapped it securely around Draco's arm. Then he wedged his left shoulder under Draco's right armpit and started to heave him upward.  
  
"Harry?" It was Ron's voice, out in the hallway. Harry could see the light of his friend's wand.  
  
"I'm in here." He called. "It's Malfoy. He's . . . done something to his arm." Harry resisted the temptation to go into detail.  
  
Ron reached the doorway of the Potions room and then hovered in the doorway.  
  
"Don't just stand there, help me!" Harry snapped.  
  
Harry's urgent tone made Ron spring into action. He dashed into the room and propped up Draco's left side just as Harry had propped up his right side.   
  
"Careful of his arm." Harry cautioned.  
  
"I *am* being careful."   
  
Carrying their lighted wands in their free hands, the two young men brought Draco back through the hallway, up the stairs and off to the hospital wing. When they arrived, the night nurse who was covering for Madame Pomfrey gasped and sent a message to Madame Pomfrey for her to immediately come to the hospital wing.   
  
Harry and Ron placed Draco on the nearest bed and Harry said with less than total honesty, "He's badly hurt. I don't know what happened to him."  
  
"Can we go now that you've done your good deed for the day?" Ron asked. "I want to get back to Hermione."  
  
"You can go on. I'll be along in a minute." Harry responded distractedly, not taking his eyes off of Draco.   
  
Ron sighed and turned to leave, but then he turned back to face Harry. "What went on back there? In the Great Hall?"  
  
Harry finally wrenched his gaze from Draco's inert form. "I was right." There was a deep sadness in his green eyes.  
  
"You mean?" Ron pointed to his left forearm.   
  
Harry nodded.   
  
"Well, I can see why you don't want to let him out of your sight, then. At least, not until you get the answers you want."  
  
Harry didn't want to stay with Draco because he needed answers; Harry wanted to stay because he felt sorry for the other boy. However, he didn't feel like arguing with Ron about it, so he just nodded.  
  
"You'll be all right, then?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry nodded again.  
  
"Well, then, see you back in the Tower."   
  
"Yeah. See you there."   
  
After Ron left, Harry sat down heavily in a nearby chair and kept watch over his nemesis. He couldn't imagine what life was like for Draco. Living with the Dursleys had been terrible, but at least he'd always had the knowledge that he had once had parents who'd loved him. Draco hadn't even had that small consolation.   
  
The night nurse and Madame Pomfrey examined him. Madame Pomfrey sighed and clucked her tongue a lot, which Harry took to mean that Draco's wounds were every bit as bad as they looked to his untrained eye.  
  
Moments later, Snape came in, concern etched on his face. "Is Draco Malfoy here?" At Madame Pomfrey's nod, he asked, "How is he doing?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey looked up at him. "It's too early to tell, really." At his gasp, she smiled softly. "He'll make it, but I'm not so sure about this arm . . . ." She dispassionately started pointing at things within his arm. "See how the bone is showing there, and there? And I don't like the look of *that* at all."   
  
Snape blanched. "That's quite all right. I'll take your word for it." He said queasily.  
  
Madame Pomfrey gave him an understanding smile. "That's all right. We'll get him all cleaned up, and then we'll see what we can do for him. I have a feeling he'll be just fine, though."  
  
While Madame Pomfrey went to get a talisman to help Draco's healing process, Snape began to speak to the unconscious young man. "Why?" He asked. "Why didn't you listen to me? I *told* you what your father had in store for you, and yet you completely ignored my warnings.  
  
"Why?" He continued. "Why did you have to continue in your blind trust in Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
Harry couldn't stand listening anymore to Snape blaming Draco for being victimized by Lucius. He stood up and began advancing on the Potions master. "What choice did he have, Professor Snape? What choice do any of us have? He *had* to go home to his parents, no matter how awful they were, just like I *have* to go home to the Dursleys every summer."  
  
By this time, Harry and Snape were standing nose-to-nose. "Potter!" Snape snarled. "I should have known that *you* would be involved with this somehow. What did you do to him?"  
  
Harry snorted. "That's right. Go ahead and blame me. I'm to blame for everything that's happened, aren't I? Wormtail tries to kill me, and it's my fault. Voldemort tries to kill me, and it's my fault. I'm probably to blame for Voldemort's rise to power, in your mind!"  
  
Snape wound up to let Harry have it, but stopped short when Dumbledore walked in.   
  
"Ah, here you are, Severus! And Harry! Good! This way I won't have to repeat myself." Dumbledore glanced over at Draco, but then looked back at Harry and Snape. "You will give this message to Mr. Malfoy when he wakes up, I trust?"  
  
Harry couldn't tell whether Dumbledore had made this request of him or of Snape, so he nodded just as Snape did the same.  
  
"Good. While nearly everyone in the Great Hall heard your . . . confrontation this evening, fortunately the only ones who heard the part about Mr. Malfoy's father were two first-year Hufflepuffs, and so we were able to put that particular rumor out of commission in time. I would ask that none of the three of you," his gaze included Draco in this, "tell *anyone* what happened tonight. We do, after all," he looked directly at Snape as he said this, "want the Death-Eaters to think they have one faithful servant here. To keep them from putting spies in our student body that we do not know about."  
  
Draco stirred then, mumbling incoherently. He moved his left arm, and sat upright, howling with pain.   
  
Immediately, the three men leaped to Draco's side, Snape took Draco's hand, Harry took his elbow, and Dumbledore took his shoulders, forcing him back into his original position. It was then that Harry noticed that if he had regained consciousness, he was once more out cold.  
  
Madame Pomfrey came around the corner, then, carrying the talisman. "Looks like we're going to have to restrain him." She said without emotion. "If he keeps moving around like that, he's going to damage his arm even more."  
  
Harry didn't want to help, but when Madame Pomfrey brought in the restraints, saying "Come on, now. You want to help him, don't you? Well, he's not going to get any better unless he's restrained." He took them. From the look of it, Snape didn't want to help either, but he cooperated as well. As did Dumbledore.  
  
Soon, they had Draco secured firmly to his bed, and Madame Pomfrey had attached the talisman to his wounded arm. "It should start healing immediately. It will look *some* better by tomorrow morning, but he has lost a lot of blood and should probably stay here through the week-end."  
  
Harry looked at Draco, who, tied to the bed as he was, looked fragile and helpless. _You could almost think him incapable of all of the havoc he's wreaked during the past six years._ Harry thought in wonderment.   
  
Harry, Madame Pomfrey, Dumbledore and Snape rested for a moment.  
  
Then a student stuck his head into the room. "Professor Snape?"  
  
"I'm over here." Snape called out.  
  
"Could you come here, please? We seem to be having a problem in the Slytherin Tower."  
  
Snape sighed, and said to Dumbledore. "One of the hazards of being the only former Slytherin on staff. No-one else to cover for me. Please look after him, Poppy." He asked Madame Pomfrey, and left the room.  
  
Dumbledore then walked to Madame Pomfrey, taking her hands in his. "I know that you'll do everything in your power to help him, and I'm confident that you are correct in your belief that he will be fine. Come along, Harry."   
  
"In a minute, Professor Dumbledore." Harry responded. "I want to ask Madame Pomfrey something."  
  
Dumbledore's final words before leaving the hospital wing were, "All right. Just don't stay here all night, will you? Good-night, Harry."  
  
Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a warm smile. "What did you want to know?"  
  
Harry wanted to ask if he could stay for a while and watch Draco, but didn't dare. So he asked his second question, "When he screamed, I was certain he would wake up, but he didn't. Why?"  
  
"It's his mind's way of protecting itself. It can't protect his body from the pain, so it keeps him. He'll wake soon enough, though, and we'll start having to actually do something for the pain."   
  
Harry started to leave the room, but didn't seem to be able to make his legs move.   
  
"Let me guess." Madame Pomfrey offered. "You'd like to stay here a while and keep an eye on him."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Thank you." He didn't want to look too closely at his reasons for feeling protective of Draco, he just chalked it up to the notion that the only people Draco had watching his back were Snape and some *very* untrustworthy friends. And with a father like Lucius Malfoy, Draco needed more than that. At least for this night.  
  
_And besides,_ he rationalized, _I've all week-end to get my homework done._ Harry returned to the chair he had been sitting in earlier and kept watch over Draco the rest of the night. 


	9. Sleepless Just Outside of Hogsmeade

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 10 - Sleepless Just Outside of Hogsmeade  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowling's universe. I just play here.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: I have no idea what wizards do for entertainment besides watch Quidditch games, but I figure that they if they have spellbooks and text books, they must have novels or something of the sort.   
  
Oh, and Swedish fish are also one of my favorite candies.  
  
========  
  
"Mr. Potter? Harry?"   
  
Harry felt someone shaking him and calling his name. "Give me a few more minutes, Ron." He mumbled. There was something wrong with that request. The person shaking his shoulder wasn't his roommate at all. It was a woman. He went through a list of all of the women it could be, but came up blank.   
  
It was then that he realized that he'd fallen asleep sitting up in a chair.  
  
His eyes opened, and he saw Madame Pomfrey smiling down at him. "Good morning, Mr. Potter." She whispered. "We have another hour or so before daybreak, so I figured you should probably be getting back to your room."  
  
Harry looked around, and saw Draco, still bound to his bed, the talisman strapped into place on his arm. He remembered then what had happened the previous evening. "Is he?"  
  
"He's doing just fine. Still unconscious, but we're going to try to revive him. That's why I thought I'd wake you up. Just in case."  
  
Harry didn't have to ask what she meant by 'just in case.' His own grudge against Draco had lessened during the previous 12 hours, but there was no guarantee that Draco's feelings for him had undergone a similar metamorphosis. And besides, he really didn't want to hear about it if Ron found out he'd spent the night by Draco's bedside.  
  
"Thanks." He smiled at Madame Pomfrey and stood, yawning and stretching as he did so. He trudged back through the castle to the Gryffindor tower.   
  
"Spindleshanks." He yawned at the fat lady, who yawned back and opened the door.  
  
He walked up to the room he shared with Ron, Neville and Seamus, and immediately fell down asleep in his bed.   
  
* * *  
  
"Harry! Wake up!" Ron shook Harry's shoulder roughly.   
  
"Huh? Wha?" Harry mumbled as he cracked open his eyes.  
  
"Charlie and Trent, remember? They're taking us into Hogsmeade?"  
  
"Yeah. When was that again?"  
  
"In about half an hour. Get up and let's get ready to go!"  
  
Harry straggled to his feet and yawned widely.   
  
"Well," Ron joked, "you're already ready to go. You're even wearing your glasses."  
  
Harry looked down at himself and realized that he hadn't taken his robe, shoes or glasses off when he came upstairs. He gave Ron a wan smile. "Stayed up too late waiting for Draco to wake up."   
  
"So? Did you get the answers you wanted?"  
  
"Answers?" It took Harry a moment to remember that he had let Ron believe that his reason for staying in the hospital wing was to question Draco about the Dark Mark. His eyes widened. "Actually, no. Malfoy never woke up.  
  
"However," he continued, "that reminds me of something. Have you told anyone else about the Dark Mark?"  
  
"Just Hermione."  
  
"I hope she hasn't mentioned it to anyone."  
  
"She wouldn't. You know that."   
  
Harry felt embarrassed that he'd doubted Hermione. "I know she wouldn't. It's just that Dumbledore, well, he wants to keep it quiet. About the Dark Mark. He seems to think that if word gets around about it, Voldemort might do something more drastic."  
  
"Like what?"   
  
"I don't know. Like recruit a different student, that we don't know about, to work for him, I guess."  
  
"That would be bad." Ron agreed.  
  
After Harry had cleaned himself up and put on a fresh robe, he, Ron and Neville went do the Gryffindor common room, where they met up with Hermione, Ginny, and Charlie and Trent.  
  
They went downstairs and headed for the front doors. On the way out, they passed by the hospital wing, and it was all Harry could do not to stick his head in and inquire after Draco. As it was, Harry craned his head around to peek in through the door, where he saw Crabbe and Goyle talking to Madame Pomfrey.   
  
This effectively killed his interest in checking on Draco. _If Crabbe and Goyle are here, then Malfoy must be awake. That's the last thing I need. An awake Malfoy *and* his two goons._ Harry thought, sighing heavily.  
  
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, having heard Harry's sigh.  
  
"Nothing. Actually, I need to talk to you for a second." He placed a hand on her arm and guided her to the back of their group.   
  
"What is it?" She asked.  
  
"I know I probably don't even need to ask, and I feel really strange asking this, but could you not mention you know what," he pointed significantly at his left lower arm, "to anyone?"  
  
Hermione nodded shortly. "You're right. You didn't need to mention it. And I won't talk to anyone. But since you mentioned it, why did you?"  
  
"Dumbledore asked me last night not to mention it to anyone. Seems that Voldemort might put another, you know," he pointed at his left arm, "here in the school if it becomes generally known . . ."  
  
"About Malfoy." She finished.  
  
"Malfoy?" Ginny asked. "What about him?"  
  
Hermione and Harry looked at each other, eyes wide. "He was injured last night." Harry said. "And he might be in the hospital wing for a while." He figured that was safe enough, since Crabbe and Goyle had already been down to see him.  
  
"Good." Ginny said with a smug grin. "The longer he's out of commission, the better."  
  
Hermione laughed. "You can say that again."  
  
Soon, everyone was joking about the terrible things that they would have happen to Draco Malfoy if they could. Everyone, that is, except Harry.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry? You there, Harry?"   
  
"Huh?" Harry looked around and saw that everyone else had finished eating. And they were all looking at him. His food sat, untouched, on the plate in front of him.   
  
"Sorry." Harry said. "I didn't get much sleep last night, and I guess it affected my appetite."  
  
"Don't worry." Charlie smiled at him. "After all, we're really here to celebrate Neville's good fortune at his new job."   
  
"Seems my bad luck can't reach me in the hospital wing." Neville grinned.  
  
"Maybe it's a sign." Ron offered. "You've found your true calling."  
  
"Maybe it doesn't matter *what* caused it. What matters is I'm proud of him." Ginny kissed her boyfriend on the lips.  
  
"We're all proud of him." Hermione corrected.  
  
Neville blushed as they toasted him.  
  
"To Neville!" Charlie said.  
  
"To Neville!" They all responded, hoisting their butterbeers high.  
  
"Oh! And I have an announcement, too." Everyone looked at Ron, who dug into the pouch at his waist and, grinning widely, pulled out the Head Boy badge.  
  
"What?"  
  
"When did this happen?"  
  
"Congratulations!"  
  
"Thanks. Dumbledore brought it by last night. Seems that our original Head Boy was unable to fulfill his full year of service," he grinned at Harry, who returned his smile weakly, "so as first runner-up, I am now Head Boy."  
  
Pleased murmurs went around the table, except for Hermione, who squealed, in a combination of pleasure and disappointment, "Why didn't you tell me?" Before she kissed him. And then playfully slapped him across the cheek.  
  
"I don't know. I wanted to tell you with everyone else. I wanted to . . . be able to make a big announcement about it." Harry could hear the unspoken _I wanted to be the center of attention_ in his friend's voice.  
  
"To Ron!" Harry lifted his butterbeer, to which everyone else responded in kind.  
  
* * *  
  
After some obligatory Weasley's Wizard Wheezes purchases and a stop at Honeyduke's _You just can't get good chocolate frogs in Romania,_ Charlie had said as he dug into his bag of candy, they returned to Hogwarts.  
  
As they stepped in through the front door, Charlie said to Trent, "We've still got a couple of hours before dinner. Why don't we go up and visit Professor Dumbledore now?"  
  
When Trent nodded his assent, Charlie called Harry over. "Dumbledore told us that you could help us figure out his password?"   
  
Harry nodded, and said to his friends, "I'm going to walk Charlie and Trent to Professor Dumbledore's office. I'll see you upstairs?"   
  
After the two groups parted ways, Harry walked with them to the gargoyle. "It's always a Honeyduke's candy." He explained. "He's recently used Licorice All-the-Other-Sorts, chocolate frogs, and Fizzing Whizzbees. And it probably will never be Bertie Botts Beans, 'cause he doesn't like them. Let's see . . ."  
  
And with that, Harry, Charlie and Trent each started throwing out names of candies. Finally they hit on the right one, Norwegian Fish -- chocolate-dipped lutefisk.  
  
As the gargoyle leaped aside, Harry and the Weasleys bid their farewells until dinner, and Harry went back toward the Gryffindor tower. He stopped at the picture of the fat lady and turned back around, walking instead to the hospital wing.   
  
Soon he stood outside the doors to the hospital wing, butterflies winging their way not only in his stomach, but also through his blood vessels, making him feel giddy and light-headed. _Go on in Harry,_ he encouraged himself. _You'll never find out how Malfoy's doing standing out here._   
  
But he couldn't get his feet to take those final few steps into the room. He'd been into the hospital wing hundreds of times as a patient and as a visitor, but he'd never been so nervous about going in there. Even his fear the time Lockhart had accidentally removed all of the bones from his arm seemed eclipsed by this apprehension.   
  
Finally, he decided to just walk in, ask Madame Pomfrey how Draco was doing, and leave. He took a step closer to the doorway, but heard when he heard Crabbe's voice, he turned and fled.   
  
* * *  
  
That night, after dinner, Harry joined Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny for a study session. However, the study session broke up pretty quickly, because Arthur and Molly Weasley were coming into town to see Charlie and Trent, and Ron and Ginny left to spend some time with their parents as well.   
  
Soon after Ron and Ginny left, Harry's head began to slip forward onto the table. Hermione suggested he go to bed.   
  
Harry cleaned his teeth and put on his nightshirt and laid down under the covers, the lights from the sconce by the door dancing across the ceiling. _This'll never work. I'm too keyed up to . . ._ His eyes closed.  
  
When he opened them again, the room was dark and the waning moon was high overhead outside the window.   
  
_That felt good._ Like a cat, Harry yawned and stretched, feeling the relaxation of sleep still settled in his bones. He turned over. And over. And over. But he was unable to get comfortable again.  
  
_That's all right._ He propped his pillow against the wall, and, lighting the candle on his bedside table, pulled a novel he was reading out from under his bed. _I'll just read until I feel sleepy again._  
  
Three chapters later, he was still wide awake. He blew the candle out again and stowed the novel under his bed. He stretched and fluffed his pillow, then lay back down, thinking, _I wonder how Malfoy's doing?_   
  
As he lay there, he watched the moon climbing higher and higher in the sky. He couldn't get his curiosity about Draco's condition out of his head. _Oh, bother!_ He sighed as he put his robe back on, picked up his Potions homework and bedside candle, and headed back down to the hospital wing. 


	10. Untitled

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 11 -- Untitled  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowling's universe. I just play here.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
==========  
  
Harry quietly opened the door of the hospital wing, and the night nurse smiled at him as he stepped through the doorway.   
  
"Here to see Draco Malfoy?" She asked in a whisper.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"He's asleep."  
  
"Would you mind if I just sat by his bedside for a while?"  
  
"I'm sure that would be fine." She gestured over towards Draco's bed.  
  
Harry sat down and put the bag with his candle, Potions book, and scrolls in it next to him on the floor. He sat and watched Draco for a while, counting the other boy's inhalation and exhalation of breath until he got into a pleasantly-trancelike state.  
  
After a long while of that, Harry made himself get to work. He pulled the candle out first, putting it on his bedside table and lighting it. Then, he took out his Potions book and a scroll for notes as he read.  
  
_armadillo bile + dried rattlesnake skin = **dried rattlesnake skin first**_ Harry scribbled on the scroll paper. He continued reading.  
  
_I do wonder what happened,_ Harry mused, looking up at Draco. _I know he said his father was responsible for the Dark Mark, but how? And why? And why did Draco nearly kill himself last night?_   
  
He went back to his reading. He was reading about the dangers of combining armadillo bile with rattlesnake venom and was going to make a note about that, but when he looked down, he saw question marks - large ones, small ones, bold, filled in ones - trailing down one edge of the page, and realized that he'd been doodling. He made his note, _armadillo bile + rattlesnake venom=**DON'T**_  
  
The night wore on, and Harry's candle wore down. Harry had ink all over his hand from taking notes in the semi-darkness without taking time for the ink to dry. He surveyed his handiwork, a small grin of pride on his face. _The meter on armadillo bile should be a piece of cake after this._ The scroll of notes he'd taken was easily a meter and a half.  
  
The candle started to gutter and finally went out. Harry stood, stretching, and put his book and scroll back into the bag. He considered moving the unlit candle from Draco's bedside to the table by the side of his table. Finally, he decided that, at the very least, he should light the candle, so he could see in the darkness of the hospital wing.  
  
He walked over to Draco's bedside and lit the candle. The yellowish light of the flame cast eerie shadows around the cubicle, but somehow accentuated Draco's pale attractiveness.   
  
"You look like a Veela." Harry whispered, astonished he hadn't notice it before. "A male Veela."  
  
Draco's mouth twitched slightly and his color darkened slightly, as if he was blushing.  
  
"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Are you awake?"  
  
Draco's mouth twitched again.  
  
"You *are* awake!" Harry said indignantly.  
  
Draco opened his eyes. "I look like a Veela, huh?" He asked sarcastically.   
  
"Well, silver hair, silver eyes, white skin, what else would you say you look like?"  
  
"A Greek god? Adonis?"   
  
Harry snorted derisively and rolled his eyes. Then he sat back down.  
  
"So, what brings you here, Potter?"  
  
"Couldn't sleep. Just wanted to see how you were doing." Harry hoped he wasn't blushing.  
  
"And that's why you sat there for," Draco glanced at the clock on the wall, "three hours?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I had some work to do. You know, the paper on armadillo bile?"  
  
"Mm-hmmm." Draco sounded skeptical.  
  
"I *couldn't* sleep," Harry insisted. "And so I figured I'd get some work done while I was here." He bent over to pick up his bag and stood to leave.  
  
"Potter?"   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"For?"  
  
"For coming to see me."  
  
The honesty in Draco's tone made Harry stop in his tracks. "You're welcome."   
  
"Could . . . could you stay for a while? The only visitors I've had today were Snape and Dumbledore."  
  
"What about Crabbe and Goyle?"   
  
"They came in. I told Pomfrey to send them away. The last thing I want to do right now is associate with Death-Eaters."  
  
"Crabbe and Goyle are . . .?" Harry was stunned by this announcement.  
  
Draco shook his head. "Nah. Their dads are, though, and they'd do just about anything for the _opportunity_" a world of scorn filled that one word, "to join the ranks."  
  
Harry nodded his understanding. "I met them in fourth year."  
  
"The thing is," Draco paused, then tried again. "The thing is, that associating with them is what I have to do."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Cause Dumbledore and Snape told me to. They said that since my father did . . . this to me, we should make the best of it. They want me to play along, pretend like I was willing to become a Death-Eater, and that I . . ." Unable to finish the thought, he stopped there.  
  
Harry gasped slightly. "They can't ask that of you!"  
  
"They did. And I have no interest in helping my father anymore, so I agreed." He shrugged.  
  
Harry ached to ask Draco why he'd nearly dissolved his arm with the universal solvent from Potions class, but was unable to figure out how to broach the subject.  
  
But Draco wasn't finished. "They told me the same thing they'll tell you tomorrow, probably. They want *everything* to be business as usual. Which means that, even though we've been civil now, starting Monday, we're to be at each other's throats again."  
  
"I don't think you'll have problems with that." Harry responded. When Draco looked hurt, he asked, "Will you?"  
  
"Yeah. I just might."  
  
"Well, I'll do my level best to antagonize you." Harry smiled. He glanced over at the clock. "I'd better get going. If it's supposed to be business as usual, I suppose that Ron, Sean and Neville should see me in my own bed when they wake up in a couple of hours."  
  
"Yeah. I guess."  
  
Harry picked up his bag and turned to leave again.   
  
But Draco's voice stopped him. "Harry?"  
  
Harry felt the same giddiness pass through him that he'd felt before at the sound of Draco using his given name. "Yes," he paused and turned to face his apparently-former nemesis, "Draco."   
  
"Would you come visit me again tomorrow night? Pomfrey's going to send Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy away all day again tomorrow, and I have a feeling I'm going to need a visitor."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'll do that. You want to work on Potions tomorrow night? I'll bring some extra scrolls and pens."  
  
"That'd be nice. Harry."  
  
"See you tomorrow, then. Draco." 


	11. Friends

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 12 -- Friends  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowling's universe. I just play here.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
==========  
  
Harry returned to his room in Gryffindor tower, and as the sky outside began to lighten, fell down into his bed, remembering to change into his nightshirt first this time.   
  
Ron woke him up. "Where did you go last night?" He asked.  
  
"Go?" Fortunately, Harry was good at coming up with answers at a moment's notice. "Oh. I couldn't sleep, so I got up to work on our Potions essay." The look on Ron's face told Harry that he was going to raise some kind of objection, so Harry added, "I didn't want to be bothered, so I left the Tower and found someplace quiet to work."  
  
Ron nodded, to show that Harry had answered his question. "Where did you go?"  
  
"Oh," Harry hedged, wishing he could tell Ron the truth, but he had to keep up the 'business as usual' façade. "Just a quiet room downstairs."   
  
"What about Malfoy?"  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"Did you ever talk to him about . . . you know?"  
  
"Oh. Well, yeah, I talked to him."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And," Harry shrugged, _business as usual_, he reminded himself, "he did it 'cause his father expected him to. You know, family tradition and all that."  
  
"That's *all*?" Ron asked, surprised.  
  
"Isn't it enough?" Harry responded, genuinely confused.  
  
"Yes, but, I don't know. I was expecting something . . . more."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Like he wanted to get the inside track to You-Know-Who in order to kill you. Something like that."  
  
"He might very well have had something like that in mind. But he certainly wouldn't admit it to me, now, would he?"  
  
"True." Ron admitted.  
  
After they got cleaned up, Harry and Ron went down to breakfast. The room was abuzz with the news that Charlie and Trent would be giving a lecture on dragon behavior that afternoon.  
  
"You gonna go?" Ron asked his friends. Then, as his breast puffed up with pride, he added. "I don't need to. Since they're my brother and brother-in-law."   
  
"Can't." Hermione responded. "I have an essay to do for History. Plus," she added, looking pointedly at Ron and Harry, "the essay for Potions."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I've already gotten a good start on my Potions essay."  
  
"Really? When?"   
  
"Last night. I, er, couldn't sleep, so I found a quiet corner downstairs and got most of my notes for it done."  
  
"Do you mind if I have a look at them?" Ron asked. "I'm not even sure where to start on mine."   
  
Hermione sighed.   
  
"What?" Ron said testily.  
  
Just then, Dumbledore stopped by the Gryffindor table. "Harry? If I may speak to you for a moment?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Suspecting that he knew what Dumbledore wanted to talk about, Harry stood and followed Dumbledore down the hallway to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office.  
  
"Spring Surprise!" Dumbledore said to the gargoyle, who promptly jumped aside to admit the Professor and student.  
  
Once they were in Dumbledore's office and had taken their usual seats, Dumbledore said, "It's my understanding that tensions between you and Mr. Malfoy have been relaxed a little recently?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Well, as I told you the night of Mr. Malfoy's unfortunate accident, Professor Snape and I have decided that the only way to ensure the safety of both you and Mr. Malfoy, as well as the rest of the students, to take is to keep everything . . ."  
  
"Business as usual. Draco and I fight, he complains about you, and so on."  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "I see that you and Mr. Malfoy have been talking."  
  
"I went down to visit him last night." Harry admitted. "He told me about the talk he had with you."  
  
"Are you willing to help out?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I sort of have to, don't I?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "And I'll give *you* a message to take to Mr. Malfoy. I assume that you and he will be captains of your respective Quidditch teams this year?"  
  
"I am. I'm not sure about Draco."  
  
"Well, tell him that the pitch will be ready for you to begin practicing next week-end. That means that you should put your minds - separately, of course - to deciding who will be on your teams, and in which positions."  
  
Harry went through the rest of the day in a blur, working on homework, getting caught up on reading his novel, and trying to avoid calling Draco by his given name  
  
They were in the library working on their homework. Harry had just given Ron his notes on the Potions reading. "What's with all of these question marks?" Ron asked.  
  
"Huh?" Harry realized that he'd been doodling on the page of notes that he'd loaned to Ron. _Business as usual. Business as usual._ He repeated to himself. "Oh. Just doodles. You know, trying to figure out what Snape's looking for on this essay."   
  
That seemed to satisfy Ron, who responded. "Oh."  
  
Finally, though, it was bedtime. Harry put on his nightshirt and got into bed, after making sure that Hedwig would come and wake him in a couple of hours.   
  
He needn't have worried, though, because he woke about half an hour earlier than when Hedwig came to his window, so by the time she tapped softly to wake him, he was already dressed and had his Potions book and notes, plus extra scrolls and quills for Draco, in his bag.  
  
He quietly slipped from the room and down the stairs. Then, with a wave at the fat lady, he headed off to the hospital wing.  
  
Draco's eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply and evenly. _He's asleep. Should I wake him? Well, he asked me to visit him . . ._   
  
"Draco?" He whispered, but got no response.  
  
He touched Draco gently on the shoulder, sending Draco sitting upright immediately, gasping in fear.   
  
"Sorry! It's just me." Harry whispered.  
  
"Oh." Draco was still breathing heavily.  
  
"Didn't mean to frighten you."  
  
"That's all right." Draco shook his head slightly. "It's just that I haven't been having very pleasant dreams lately." He was so pointedly not looking at his left arm, he might as well have been waving it in Harry's face.  
  
Harry nodded understandingly. "That's okay. So, you wanna get started on the Potions essay now?"  
  
"Sure. I did the reading, and it seems to me that the biggest drawback of armadillo bile is that you can't tell *what* it'll do when combined with another ingredient until you try it. I mean, combine it with cactus juice and you get a potent cure for the _furnunculus_ curse, but if you combine it with rattlesnake venom, you get a cloud of noxious gas that explodes on contact with anything containing carbon - paper, wood, food . . . ."  
  
Harry handed Draco a scroll and a quill. "That's pretty much what I came up with, too. What did you get for the best benefit of it?"  
  
"You won't like my thought."  
  
"Try me." Harry smiled.  
"You can't tell what it'll do when combined with another ingredient until you try it. You could get a cure for a rare disease, you could be annihilated. It'd be a good way to get rid of an enemy."  
  
Harry nodded. "You were right. I don't like it." He laughed at Draco's disappointed expression. "But I could completely see the advantages." He added.  
  
"What about you?"   
  
"I guess I was thinking along the lines of, like you said, the potential benefits to everyone. I mean, even combining it with rattlesnake venom would be a good thing, if you could guarantee that the explosion would be directed the way you need - opening locked doors, things like that."  
  
"I can see that, too." Draco smiled as the pair got to work on their essays.  
  
They sat in companionable silence while they wrote, the only sound the scratching of their quills on their scrolls.  
  
"Draco?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"What're you going to do about your potion? I mean, won't Crabbe and Goyle notice that it's . . ."  
  
"Gone? Yeah, well, Snape and I talked it over, and he took a couple of grams from everyone's cauldrons to put into Crabbe's and mine. Hopefully no-one will notice the slight difference in the levels."  
  
"Maybe they'll chalk it up to evaporation. After all, they've all got to sit for a week."  
  
They went back to work.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For saving my life. Snape says that if you hadn't come along, I would have bled to death."  
  
"No problem." Harry smiled.  
  
"It's just . . ." He stopped, then looked at Harry. Seeming to draw some strength from Harry's green eyes, he continued. "I hated it. The feeling of being . . . owned. Marked. Branded.  
  
"And I just needed for it to *end.*" He laughed humorlessly. "The thing is, they think there's a chance that once the skin's all healed, it'll come back."  
  
"Really?" Harry seemed to feel some of Draco's pain.  
  
Draco nodded sadly.  
  
They were close, so close to each other and Harry longed to reach across the few inches that separated them to offer Draco some comfort, but something made him hold back, some fear of rejection, perhaps. So, instead, he offered sympathy with his eyes, and went back to work.  
  
Sooner than he expected, Harry finished his essay, rolled up his scroll and put it and his quill back in his bag. He leaned back and closed his eyes.  
  
"Harry?"   
  
"What?"  
  
"You've been asleep for over an hour."  
  
"Asleep?" When he opened his eyes, he could tell from the fogginess of his brain that Draco was telling the truth. "Sorry."  
  
"That's all right. You looked . . . like you needed the sleep." It sounded like Draco wanted to say something else, but he never completed that other thought.  
  
"Not as much as I'm sure you do." Harry sat up and started arranging his things in his bag, preparing to leave.  
  
"No. Please stay."   
  
Harry looked at Draco, surprised.   
  
"We need to make up some fights to have tomorrow. You know, business as usual, and all that."  
  
"Oh." Harry was disappointed that Draco didn't just want him for his company. "You're going back to classes tomorrow?"  
  
Draco nodded. "They were just keeping me here until we were sure I'd make it. The only healing I need is superficial now."   
  
_And emotional, and spiritual,_ Harry added silently, but knew he could never say those words aloud, and that Draco wouldn't find that healing here in the hospital wing. Only by returning to his life could he heal those wounds.  
  
"Oh. Professor Dumbledore gave me a message to give you." He said instead. "He says that the Quidditch pitch will be ready for us to start practices next week-end. That is, if you're going to be captain of the Slytherin team this year."  
  
"You're Gryffindor's captain? Of course you are." Draco answered his own question. "Yeah, I'm Slytherin's captain. If I can get their respect after this."  
  
"I thought," Harry said, winking to indicate he was joking, "that Slytherins ruled by fear."  
  
"Actually, that's pretty close to the truth." Draco admitted.   
  
Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this, so he dragged their conversation back on-topic. "So, what should we fight about first?"  
  
"How about . . ." Draco thought, "I can blame Dumbledore, loudly, for my injury?"  
  
"Oh! Good one! Let's see . . . have you thought of a cover story for your injury yet?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"You could chalk it up to, like, a bite from a big spider, and get Dumbledore and Hagrid in one."  
  
Draco's eyes lit up. "That sounds like something I would do. I, of course, would threaten to owl my father about it all."  
  
Harry laughed. "Brilliant! And the whole time you're complaining, I'll glare at you spitefully."   
  
Draco laughed, too. "I think we're onto something here. You know, I haven't made anyone's cauldron explode for a while. If tomorrow's potion isn't too dangerous, would you mind?"  
  
Harry thought. "I *think* I have a clean robe in my trunk. Let me check. If I do, I think we could manage an exploding cauldron." He grinned.  
  
They came up with another couple of days' worth of harassment, then Harry saw that the sun was coming up. "I've gotta go before they notice I'm missing. Remember, business as usual."   
  
The two boys shared a grin, and Harry blew out the candle by Draco's bedside.   
  
"Thanks." Harry could hear Draco smiling in his tone.  
  
"You're welcome." Harry smiled back before he returned to his own room. 


	12. Doubts

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 13 -- Doubts  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Not mine. At all.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: I don't speak Latin, so I have to sort of guess based on a [Latin/English dictionary][1]. Boy, do I wish JKR went with Spanish for her spells, rather than Latin.  
  
==========  
  
"What're you smiling about?" Hermione asked at breakfast the next morning.  
  
"Me? Smiling?" Harry asked, truly surprised. He'd been remembering their harassment-planning session the night before, and had apparently found it a little too amusing. "Just thinking how surprised Snape'll be when he sees my Potions essay." He unrolled the one and a half meter long scroll, and reveled in the gasp of surprise from Hermione.  
  
"I guess I'd better work a little harder. You're going to be passing me up soon." She grinned.  
  
They turned back to their breakfasts, Harry biting the inside of his mouth to keep his silly grin to a minimum.  
  
However, all thoughts of smiling went out of his head when an unfamiliar owl landed on the table in front of him. He unrolled the letter and read, _Please come down here immediately. P. Pomfrey._  
  
His eyes widened and he turned to Hermione, Ron and Neville. "Something's come up. I've got to go. I'll see you in class."  
  
He dashed immediately down to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey was unsuccessfully trying to get Draco out of bed.   
  
"No." The Slytherin said flatly. "I'm not going to go. I'm not ready to go."  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, you have to. Professors Snape and Dumbledore won't accept any more delay." Madame Pomfrey didn't often pass the buck upwards -- she usually didn't need to. She only did it this time to cut through Draco's objections more quickly.  
  
"Hey." Harry said, sitting on the edge of Draco's bed.  
  
"Not you, too?" Draco whined. " I can't. I can't face *them*." Harry knew that Draco meant Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy.   
  
"But, Draco, all of our plans from last night will be wasted if you don't start back today. Who'll glare at you while you insult Dumbledore and Hagrid if you do it tomorrow? And tomorrow there won't be any cauldron for you to make explode."  
  
Draco gave a watery smile at this. "There's something else." He rolled up the sleeve of his hospital robe. "Look."  
  
Harry looked. And there, faint, yet visible, was the Dark Mark. He looked up at Draco, his commiseration clearly written on his face.   
  
"I thought I could just go on as usual, but I can't. Because of this. I'm . . . broken."  
  
"Broken?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, broken. Damaged. The Dark Lord has touched me. I'm the only student here who's been touched by the Dark Lord, and I. Don't. Like it!" He yelled this last, and then gathered himself back together with a visible force of will. "I know, you've been touched by Him before, but that's different. You're The Boy Who Lived."   
  
This time it was Harry's turn to force himself to remain calm. He knew that Draco was going through a very emotional time, and that it *was* fair to say that Harry's situation was different from his own.  
  
"Draco . . ." He began, but was interrupted.  
  
"Harry? May I speak to Malfoy?" Harry recognized the voice.  
  
"Ginny! What the hell are you doing here?" Unconsciously, he used his body to block her view of Draco.  
  
"I recognized the owl as being one of Madame Pomfrey's." Ginny responded simply. "And I wanted to know why she was sending for you, and why it was so urgent you'd leave in the middle of breakfast without your Potions book." She held out the book in question.  
  
Harry, blushing, took the book from her. "Well, now you know. Draco and I have, well, we've come to a truce. But Dumbledore says that we shouldn't let on that we're getting along now." He explained quickly.  
  
"I see that. And I'd like a chance to talk to Malfoy."   
  
Harry suspected he knew what she was going to say. "But . . ."  
  
"It's all right, Harry. If what I went through can help someone, then it'll be worth it, won't it?"  
  
Harry stepped aside and let Ginny get close to Draco. This time it was the girl who perched on the edge of Draco's bed. "You aren't the only one here who's been touched by You-Know-Who."  
  
"Yeah. I remember. But that was different, too. You were kidnapped."   
  
Ginny shook her head sadly. "Not kidnapped. Possessed."  
  
"What?!?"  
  
Ginny closed her eyes, trying to gather her strength. "In my first year, your father slipped a book in among my schoolbooks. The diary of Tom Riddle.   
  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle." She repeated. "Whose name anagrams to _I am Lord Voldemort._"  
  
Draco's eyes widened. "I knew something of what my father had planned that year, but . . . " he never finished the thought, and Harry didn't know if it was Ginny's announcement that had been the surprise, or Draco's realization that she was a human being, and not just 'another Weasley.'  
  
Ginny continued her tale. "I discovered the diary, and then I found that it could . . . answer me. I started writing in it, telling it about my fears, my hopes, my hopeless crush on Harry." She shared a friendly smile with Harry at this. She'd shared that crush with him the night he'd saved her, but he'd also made it clear that he wouldn't ever think of her as anything other than a little sister, and the news hadn't hurt her at all.   
  
"But then, things started happening and I started to be afraid that I was the one doing them."  
  
"And so you shared those fears with the diary." Draco nodded, understanding.  
  
"Yeah." She nodded. "I was You-Know-Who's vessel. Doing his evil. I hurt, and nearly killed, a bunch of people."  
  
"But your family . . ." Draco began, but she interrupted him.  
  
"Are successful, and happy, and *good.* But most of all, they're successful. My father's moving up in the Ministry, and Bill's got a position of trust with Gringott's, and Charlie . . ."  
  
"I know about Charlie." Draco interrupted, reminding Harry of Draco's fear of dragons.  
  
"Well, then there's Percy, who was Head Boy, and has a Ministry job, too, and Fred and George, the youngest mega-Galleonaires ever on the MSE, and Ron's going to end up a successful auror, if he has his way. Half of a fabulously successful auror married couple, too, probably.  
  
"And what am I? The youngest. The only daughter. The vessel of Voldemort."  
  
"But that's not all you are." Draco insisted. "I've seen your paintings. They're wonderful. You're a fabulous artist."  
  
Ginny smiled. "And that," she pointed at the Mark on Draco's arm, "isn't all you are. And it sounds like someone's counting on you."  
  
Draco nodded. He looked slightly embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess I should get ready and go to class. Once you've all left me alone for a few minutes to put my robe on."  
  
After Draco had made himself decent, Harry and Ginny rejoined him. "Ginny, I've got to swear you to secrecy." Draco said. "In order to keep you safe. God, this conspiracy is getting big." He directed this final comment to Harry.  
  
"Conspiracy?" Ginny asked.  
  
Harry filled her in. "It's one of Dumbledore's plans. So far, the only people who know about it, that I know of at least, are Dumbledore, Snape, Madame Pomfrey, Draco, and me. Well, and you now."  
  
Ginny nodded.   
  
"Draco and I'll continue to look like we hate each other in public, but really we've come to a truce. We might even like each other someday." Harry and Draco shared a grin.  
  
"I somehow get the feeling that you two already like each other."   
  
"Well, you ready?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not really, but I doubt that makes any difference at this point."  
  
"Oh! And if you don't mind, after you make my cauldron explode, I thought I'd hit you with, just a little, _pedis fervens._"  
  
Draco sighed heavily. "Do you think that's necessary?"  
  
"Do *you* think that I'd just take a robe covered in whatever icky stuff Snape's going to have us cooking up *without* responding?"  
  
Draco nodded. "All right. But as long as it's only a little bit."  
  
"It will be. But you have to play it up, all right?"   
  
"Fine." They heard Crabbe and Goyle's voices over the partition that separated Draco's cubicle from the reception area. "Well, I guess it's showtime."  
  
Harry and Ginny ducked behind the curtain separating Draco's cubicle from the one next door, and Harry heard Crabbe say, "Hey, Draco! You ready for class?"  
  
Draco responded, in a voice completely devoid of the warmth that Harry had heard in it the previous two days, "It's about time you got here to rescue me from this hellhole."   
  
Harry felt the blood drain from his face as he heard Draco's voice return to the way it sounded during their six-year rivalry. _Please, let him have been honest with me,_ he prayed silently.  
  
"Yeah, well, at least your first class is with Snape." Goyle contributed. "Could be worse."  
  
Harry heard Draco snort. "Yes. It could be with that fool, Hagrid. Pity I have to go to his class at all today . . ."  
  
Harry stuck his head around the curtain, and saw that Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had left.  
  
"Harry?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you absolutely certain that Malfoy's changed?"  
  
"I hope so, Ginny. I really, truly hope so."  
  
Harry walked to the dungeon for Potions with a heart full of misgivings. _Could Draco be a double-agent or something? What if Dumbledore, Snape and I are wrong? But he nearly killed himself to get rid of the Dark Mark. Would he do that if he was loyal to Voldemort?_  
  
These thoughts whirled through his head the whole way down to the Potions classroom. He was the last student there, but Snape hadn't arrived yet, so he slid into the seat next to Ron and took out his essay.  
  
He listened around, trying to hear what Draco was saying. "It was a huge spider! The biggest one I've ever seen. Of course, I didn't see it until *after* it had bitten me."  
  
Harry dared let out a little of the breath he was holding. Draco was talking about what they'd discussed.   
  
"I think it's a disgrace that they let things get to that state around here." Pansy offered, walking right into what Harry hoped would be the next bullet point on the list he and Draco had made up.  
  
"Well, it's that Dumbledore. If we had a *real* headmaster, things like this just wouldn't happen. Especially with a gamemaster like Hagrid. He encourages monsters, like those blast-ended skrewts. He's probably breeding giant spiders, too."  
  
His tone alone was enough to make Harry turn and give him a glare that might very well have been real.   
  
"I'm thinking of owling my father and telling him all about this fiasco." Draco continued.  
  
Soon after this, Snape came in. Without acknowledging Harry in any way, he said, "I trust you are feeling better, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Draco said, unconsciously touching the Dark Mark on his arm. "Much better."  
  
Harry began to have a sinking feeling that perhaps Draco and Snape were planning something. Perhaps Snape had always been a loyal Death Eater, lulling Dumbledore into a false sense of security. . . .  
  
"Harry?" Ron whispered, nudging him slightly.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your essay?"  
  
"Oh!" He took the scroll and carried it to Snape.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Potter." Snape said in his usual, oily tone.  
  
Snape then conducted a forty-five minute lecture on the uses of Spanish moss in potions, and then he introduced their laboratory assignment - a Spanish moss and spider web potion for knitting broken bones.  
  
Just as the potion reached its peak, a dark, murky greenish black, Sploosh! A gob of the potion leaped from his cauldron, dousing Harry to the skin. He heard Draco and his cronies laughing.   
  
He turned, and saw Draco just putting his wand back down on the table in front of him. This was the signal. He picked up his own wand. "_Pedis fervens!_" He yelled, pointing it at Draco.  
  
"Ouch!" Draco hollered, much too loudly for the little bit of magic that Harry had used on him, hopping on his left foot as he cradled his right in his hand. "Potter! I'll get you for that!" He yelled.  
  
"That'll be enough from both of you." Snape interrupted, glaring at Harry. "You know better than that. Malfoy's only just out of hospital. That'll be twenty points from Gryffindor, *and* a detention. I shall see you after supper tonight."  
  
"Harry!" Ron whispered, "Why'd you let Malfoy get to you like that? Now we won't be able to get started planning for the Quidditch season until tomorrow!" Ron was helping Harry devise strategy for the Gryffindor team. With six siblings, Ron had a lot of experience watching his parents organize the activities and movements of a group of seven people.  
  
"I have a free period next. I'll write up my ideas and give them to you at lunch, then we can talk it over at supper."  
  
Ron nodded. "I guess that'll be the best way. I hope Snape doesn't have you doing anything *too* awful."  
  
"Just as long as he doesn't hand me over to Filch." Harry grinned.  
  
Just then, Harry felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. "Ow!" He yelped as he rubbed the sore spot. He glanced back at Draco, who was, very slowly and deliberately, putting his wand down on the table in front of him, an insolent grin on his face.  
  
"That'll be enough of that Mr. Malfoy." Snape said. "Five points from Slytherin and *you* can see me after supper, as well."  
  
"Only five?!?" Harry demanded reflexively. "That really *hurt*!"  
  
"And are you insinuating that the hotfoot you gave Mr. Malfoy didn't?" Snape asked pointedly.  
  
"No, sir." Harry mumbled.  
  
As they finished the laboratory portion of their class, the students moved on. Harry's face slowly burned as he heard Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy laughing at his reaction to the hex that Draco had put on him.   
  
"Don't worry about it." Ron said. "You know that Malfoy's always like that. At least Snape gave him a detention as well, even if he didn't take as many points from Slytherin."  
  
Ron and Hermione left for their next class, and Harry continued walking to the library, wondering just whose side Draco Malfoy was on. 

   [1]: http://humanum.arts.cuhk.edu.hk/Lexis/Latin/



	13. Summit

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 14 -- Summit  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
=============  
  
Once he reached the library, Harry threw himself into planning the Quidditch season. He plotted out the positions everyone would be playing, and then listed their various strengths and weaknesses.   
  
He looked down at his own entry, _Harry - Seeker - strength: good eye, quick on broom - weakness: too trusting? Too distrustful?_   
  
_Those aren't Quidditch weaknesses._ He realized. _Those are what? My problem with Draco? With Malfoy?_ After Potions class, even though nearly everything had gone as planned, he didn't know which the blond Slytherin was - his friend, Draco, or his rival, Malfoy.   
  
It wasn't any one thing that had happened in Potions class. It was everything, from the ease with which Draco had seemed to settle back into his relationship with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, to the extra unplanned hex that Draco had put on him.   
  
There wasn't anything to do for it now, though. He would just have to wait and see how Draco behaved towards him in the future.  
  
He turned his thoughts back to Quidditch. First, he blotted out his questions he'd asked of himself, figuring that he didn't need Ron asking about how his level of trust would effect his Quidditch playing. He then turned his attention to plotting out the various strengths and weaknesses of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams. He avoided thinking about Slytherin for the moment.  
  
Soon it was lunch, and Harry took the scroll that he'd written his Quidditch notes on and went down to the Great Hall. Neither Ron nor Hermione were there yet, so he sat with Neville and Ginny, facing the Slytherin table so that he could keep an eye on Draco.   
  
Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy came down to lunch, but Draco didn't come with them. He itched to ask them where he was, but thought that even if he could successfully make it sound snarky, it might come too close to revealing Dumbledore's conspiracy, so he just bided his time.  
  
Ron and Hermione arrived soon after Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, and Harry gave Ron the scroll that he'd been taking his notes on. "What's this?" Ron asked, pointing to the blob of ink where Harry had blotted out his doubts about his judgment where Draco was concerned.   
  
Harry shrugged offhandedly. "I guess I'm just not very good at assessing my own weaknesses." He glanced over at the Slytherin table again. Draco still wasn't there.  
  
A few minutes after Crabbe, Pansy and Goyle left the room, Draco came in. He sat down next to a Slytherin that Harry didn't recognize and soon the two Slytherins were deep in conversation.   
  
_I wonder what that's about?_ Harry thought.  
  
In Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid had a visitor from Tibet who had brought a male and female Yeti with him. He told them about their care, feeding, life and growth cycle, and the differences between the Yeti and other similar creatures such as Bigfoot and the Wildman of China.   
  
"Wednesday," Hagrid informed them, "will be some hands-on time for you to actually help feed and care for these creatures. And anyone who wants, or needs," he looked directly at Draco, "a little extra credit can come see me about helping with bathing them tomorrow or Wednesday morning."  
  
As would be expected, Hermione was first in line to sign up for extra-credit Yeti-bathing.  
  
Harry's second afternoon class and supper seemed to go like lightning, and soon he and Draco were sitting in front of Snape in the dungeon, waiting to see what kind of punishment Snape would dole out.  
  
Harry and Draco sat at separate tables, casting sidelong glances in each other's directions. Snape paced back and forth at the front of the room.   
  
"I take it." Snape said to Draco. "That Mr. Potter didn't expect your little application of the _torqueo_ hex?"  
  
"No, sir." Draco responded, eyes downcast.  
  
"But I also take it," he continued, "That you *did* expect the _pedis fervens_ hex?"  
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"I see. I want to apologize, Potter, for taking more points from Gryffindor than Slytherin, but you know how it is." He gave the two young men a crooked grin. "Business as usual.  
  
"That being said, I gave both of you detentions because I want you to take some time to think about what it is you're doing. And whether you want to take the risk of alienating each other."  
  
Both young men gave Snape curious looks.  
  
"You are supposed to be working together on this." Snape reminded them. "I'd suggest you learn how to do so."  
  
"I thought about handing you both over to Filch, but he's not in on Professor Dumbledore's plan, and I want the two of you to be able to talk to each other. And so, I've decided that you need to sort through some possibly out-of-date ingredients, and help me decide which are still good and which need to be thrown out.  
  
"The ingredients are there." Snape indicated a box full of jars. "You will find the necessary reference materials here." He put his hand on a stack of books.   
  
"Be sure that when you decide that an ingredient needs to be disposed of, you dispose of it properly. Do not just pour it down the sink or throw it in the dustbin. Some need to be burned or disposed of in other ways.  
  
"Now good luck, and *please* try not to destroy my laboratory in the process." Snape gave the two young men a wider smile than Harry would have thought possible, and left the two young men together.  
  
Harry looked over at Draco, who was still looking downwards. "Malfoy?" He asked softly.  
  
Draco looked up. "Yes?"  
  
"We should probably get to work."  
  
"Yeah."   
  
Harry arrived at the table and took out the first ingredient, which rattled in the jar. "Red wiggler worms, dehydrated." He opened the jar and was immediately assailed by a mind-numbing stench. "I think these have gone bad." He handed the jar to Draco, who seemed to wilt under the assault of the smell.  
  
"Yeah. I think so, too. But let's look it up, just in case." He picked up the top two books and handed the first one to Harry, keeping the second for himself.   
  
They paged through the books. "Dehydrated red wiggler worms shouldn't have an odor." Harry said. "What do you get?"  
  
"The same."  
  
Harry longed to get past this uncomfortable silence, back to how things had been on Saturday and Sunday nights. But he wasn't the one who had deviated from the plan, and he'd be damned if he would be the first to apologize.  
  
"Disposal?" Harry asked.  
  
"Fire." Draco said.   
  
"Yep. That's what I get, too."   
  
Draco got one of the school's cauldrons, and they poured the worms into it, lighting them on fire and watching the flames destroy them.  
  
"Potter?" Draco said. "I'm sorry."  
  
"What happened? Why'd you do that to me? I had a welt under my robe."  
  
"Crabbe and Goyle were egging me on. I had to. If I hadn't, they'd've known that something was going on."  
  
Harry looked at Draco, who finally raised his eyes. Green eyes met silver, and all Harry saw in their lustrous depths was repentance.  
  
"That's all right." Harry said, offering a half-smile. "I can see why you'd do it, under those circumstances."  
  
"I didn't mean to use that much, but I just wanted them to *shut* *up.* Did you do anything about the welt?" Draco's arms twitched towards Harry, as he was uncertain whether to reach out and touch the injured spot.  
  
Harry nodded. "I had some ointment left over from last Quidditch season that cleared it right up."  
  
"That's good."   
  
Harry wanted to ask Draco about the Slytherin he'd seen Draco talking to at lunch, but instead pulled out the next jar. "Powdered aniseed. Should be easy." He opened it, and was greeted with the smell of licorice. "Smells good to me. What do you think?" He handed the jar to Draco.  
  
Draco dutifully sniffed and nodded. "Yep."   
  
They put the jar to one side.  
  
As Harry pulled out the next jar, Draco said, "I really am tired of them." Harry knew who Draco meant. "And so I've decided to widen my circle of acquaintances."  
  
"Oh?" Harry wondered if Draco was going to explain who he'd been sitting with at lunch. "Ragweed pollen?"   
  
"The muggle allergen?" Draco asked, perplexed.  
  
"Looks like it."   
  
As they examined the ragweed pollen, Draco continued. "Today at lunch, I ducked out on Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy and went to lunch by myself." He smiled at Harry. "Well, anyway, I got to talking with another Slytherin - a sixth year named Erik, whom I know from Quidditch - and really found myself enjoying myself at the Slytherin table for the first time in a long time.  
  
"I'm pretty sure that he's not interested in serving the Dark Lord." Draco continued. "In fact, he told me all about himself, and how he got into Slytherin."   
  
Draco grinned. "He's from an old wizarding family, most of whom become Gryffindors." Draco's grin widened. "His grandmother has the Sight, and she made a prediction that it would be a Slytherin who'd defeat the Dark Lord. So, when he came to Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat picked up on his desire to be the one his grandmother had foreseen, and Sorted him into Slytherin."  
  
Harry smiled back. "Sounds like a change from your usual group."   
  
"Yeah. He's got his own little group, who all want to be Minister of Magic and things like that - ambitious without the evil."  
  
"So," Harry said, "keep it or toss it?"  
  
"Huh?"   
  
"The pollen. Is it good or should we get rid of it?"  
  
"Oh. I think it's good."   
  
"So do I." Harry put the jar of pollen with the jar of aniseed and took out the next jar.   
  
"Powdered griffin egg yolks?" He looked at it skeptically. It was filled with a bright orange powder. "I wouldn't even know where to start with this one."  
  
"I do." Draco took the jar from Harry and opened it, sniffing gingerly. The look on Draco's face made Harry think that Draco's eyebrows were going to be burned off by the fumes. "Pfauugh! Yep. Smells like it's still good to me."  
  
"Let's double-check, just in case." Harry picked up his book and began leafing through it.   
  
After a minute, Harry said, "I'm sorry, too."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For being such a . . . child about the _torqueo_ hex. I sulked, and pitied myself, and doubted you . . .r commitment to Dumbledore's plan. After all I've been through . . ."  
  
"After all you've been through, *I* should have been more understanding." Draco corrected him, looking deeply into Harry's eyes.   
  
As they stood there, Harry felt a thrill of . . . something run through him and he wanted to reach forward and touch the Slytherin, but he didn't dare. Instead, he held out his right hand. "Am I forgiven?"  
  
"Only if I am." Draco took Harry's hand, shaking it tightly, like he was drowning and Harry's hand was all that was keeping him afloat.   
  
Draco held onto his hand a moment longer than necessary. And then picked up the vile-smelling jar. "I vote that it's good."  
  
Harry nodded. "Me, too."  
  
They put that jar aside and then moved on to the next one.  
  
As they pondered the freshness of a jar of black widow spiders' eyes (this test required them to set fire to them and analyze the ashes), Draco broke the silence. "You know, your friend Longbottom's not at all bad in Herbology. He's actually quite good. But don't tell him I said so."  
  
Harry smiled at Draco. "I'll be sure not to."   
  
Soon enough, they were finished with the box of ingredients, and had an exactly equal number of empty jars and full ones. Harry noticed this with interest. _It's almost like Snape knew how many of these had gone bad, and he gave us this to do just to keep us busy._   
  
Once he'd returned to the room, Snape sniffed at a few of the still-full jars. "Very well-done. You made sure to destroy the red wigglers by fire?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry and Draco said.  
  
"Very well, then. You may both go back to your rooms And I hope this gave you some time to iron out your differences." Then Snape left the room.  
  
"So, Draco? Did we iron out our differences?"  
  
"I like to think we did."   
  
Harry suddenly felt nervous. "Well, see you Wednesday morning, then?"  
  
Draco nodded. "Yeah."  
  
Harry turned to leave, but Draco called him back. "Harry! You want to get together again late tomorrow night? It was . . . nice just sitting and doing homework with you on Sunday."  
  
"It was, wasn't it?" Harry smiled. "1:00 a.m.? Astronomy tower?"  
  
"Some of my housemates are still up around then. How about 2:00?"  
  
Harry nodded. "See you then." 


	14. 1 Samuel 18

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 15 - 1 Samuel 18  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Harry? Not mine. Hagrid? Not mine either. Ron? Hermione? Nope and nope. Ginny? Not her either, nor Neville, for that matter. Draco? No (too high-maintenance, anyhow). They're all JK Rowling's.   
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
=============  
  
Several weeks passed, and Harry and Draco started preparing their teams for their first Quidditch match of the season. At least, Draco assured Harry that he was preparing. And that was all the Slytherin would say on the matter.   
  
Ron had, of course, tried to watch the Slytherin team practicing, but they'd set wards around the pitch, so by the time Ron got close enough to see what they were doing, the Slytherins were just standing there, looking at him. It was driving Ron crazy.  
  
Additionally, the rumors coming out of Slytherin House were confusing at best. First, the rumors had said that the team needed one Beater, then it was two Chasers, then it was one Beater again. Finally, rumors said that what the team had needed all along was one Keeper, and that a diminuitive second-year by the name of Aaron Llamas had gotten the position.  
  
Then the day of the first Quidditch match arrived. Harry was pacing nervously around, wiping the sweat from his palms.   
  
"Nervous?" Ron asked, smiling.  
  
"What do you think?" Harry responded, "This is my first game as captain. We're up against Slytherin, and have no idea what to expect, and . . ." Harry had almost been about to say that he feared his friendship with Draco would suffer because of this game, but remembered at the last minute that no-one knew about his friendship with Draco.   
  
So, he grasped the first idea to come to mind and ran with it. "And we have a completely untried Keeper. What if Annie blows it completely?"  
  
"She won't blow it. She's the best Keeper I've ever seen outside the professional leagues, Harry. You're not only a gifted Seeker, you're also an excellent judge of Quidditch players. You saw her talent immediately, Harry. That, not because you've been with the team longer than anyone else, or because you've won Gryffindor more games than anyone else ever has, is why you were made captain."  
  
Harry sighed. "I only hope you're right."  
  
A few minutes before the game, Draco came to see Harry. In his best British 'stiff-upper-lip' tone, as if he were visiting the dentist, rather than talking to a fellow student, Draco said, "Potter. I just wanted to come by and say that no matter what happens, no hard feelings, all right?"   
  
Harry looked at Draco, and what he saw in his silver eyes wasn't at all 'stiff-upper-lip.' "Ron, could you leave us alone for a minute?"  
  
"You sure you want me to?"   
  
"Yeah. I'll be fine." He demonstrated to Ron that he was still packing his wand, if he needed to defend himself.  
  
After Ron left, Draco relaxed. "What I really wanted to say is that I'll still be your friend after all this if you'll still be mine. No matter what happens." He smiled warmly.  
  
Harry returned the smile. "Of course. No matter what."   
  
Harry held out his hand, and Draco took it firmly. Then the two young men pulled themselves towards each other for a stereotypically masculine back-slapping hug.  
  
"See you after the game, then?" Draco nodded as he turned to leave.  
  
Harry nodded back. "The usual place."  
  
And with that, Draco was gone.   
  
Ron returned soon after Draco left. "What was up with him?"  
  
Harry avoided the subject. "Let's go over those plays you came up with again."  
  
He saw a momentary flicker of suspicion in Ron's eyes before he nodded and said, "All right, first play . . ."  
  
The announcer called out their names as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams took the field. As team Captains, Harry and Draco were each the final names called and each got much more applause than any of the other players.   
  
Murmurs of anticipation worked their way through the crowd. Never before had a team's plans been clouded in as much secrecy as Slytherin's plans had been. The murmurs grew louder as the teams went into their opening positions.   
  
There were no surprises among the Gryffindors, but then Draco's friend Erik took up position as Keeper. And then simultaneously, Draco and the new kid, Aaron, moved into their places - Aaron as Seeker and Draco as Beater.  
  
The mumbling of the crowd grew to a roar as the arrangement of the players sank in.   
  
_What the hell's Draco playing at? He's supposed to be Seeker, not Beater!_ Harry thought. Suddenly, Harry realized why Draco had thrown caution to the wind and come to see him before the game. He was up to something, and wanted Harry to know that, this time at least, it wasn't personal.  
  
From where Harry sat circling the field looking for the Snitch, he could watch every move that Draco made. Draco played like he was born to be a Beater, with nerves of steel and dead-on aim. Harry knew that several of his teammates were going to have bruises after run-ins with Draco. And Harry was very surprised to feel pride welling up in his chest as he watched his friend play.  
  
Then Harry saw the Snitch. It was soaring up from ground-level on the other side of the pitch, but Harry thought he could *just* reach it if he flew fast enough. He checked Aaron's position, and saw that he was halfway along the field, quite a bit higher than Harry was, and apparently not paying any attention to Harry or the Snitch at all. Harry flew for the Snitch.   
  
No sooner had he reached it, than it disappeared, and Harry couldn't tell where it went. All he knew was that the crowd was in an absolute uproar about something.   
  
He looked down and saw Draco about five feet below him, grinning up at him, and pointing upwards. There, above his head was Aaron, holding the Snitch. A Bludger hovered high over Aaron's head.  
  
It only took Harry a fraction of a second to figure out what had happened. Draco had apparently knocked the Bludger into the Snitch from below to push the Snitch upwards into Aaron's hands.  
  
Harry could hear the announcer saying, "Mmmmm. . . . It doesn't look like there's anything in the rule books prohibiting plays like that. So, I guess that SLYTHERIN WINS!"  
  
If the crowd had been in an uproar before, it was absolutely insane now, with Slytherins, and some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, celebrating like Slytherin had just won the Quidditch World Cup, and not just a single school game.   
  
Gryffindors, and the other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, on the other hand, were protesting. Cries of "Foul!" and "Cheaters!" rang out from that side of the pitch. Harry could hear Hagrid's voice booming, "Never trust a Slytherin!"  
  
For his part, however, Harry was surprised to notice that he didn't have very much rancor towards Draco at all. In fact, he found it amusing that Draco had made him promise to continue their friendship 'no matter what,' knowing that this maneuver was in the works. He offered Draco a half-smile and touched his temple in a pantomime of a salute, which Draco returned.  
  
After the team had cleaned up and everyone had gone to dinner, Ron was still fuming. "That *must* be illegal! I can't imagine the Department of Magical Games and Sports condoning that sort of behavior."  
  
"Ron, calm down," Hermione interrupted his ranting. "It's not like it's snooker*, where the balls are all stationary. It's probably just dumb luck that he got it at all."   
  
Harry wasn't so sure about that. He knew that Draco had something planned when he came to visit him before the game, and suspected that this 'snooker play' came off exactly as planned. But he didn't say anything to Ron and Hermione, lest they figure out that Harry and Draco weren't rivals anymore.   
  
"Harry?" Ginny whispered in his ear. "Did you know that was coming?"  
  
Harry shook his head shortly. "I knew it was something, but didn't know *what.*"   
  
They finished their supper, Ron still complaining bitterly about the play Draco had used to win the game, and retired to the Gryffindor common room. Ron ranted on about the Slytherin Quidditch team for another few minutes, and then he finally got down to working on his homework.   
  
"What did you get for number 35, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry didn't respond.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"What?" Harry's eyes took a moment to focus on Ron's face.   
  
"What did you get for number 35?"  
  
Harry looked down at the scroll in front of him. "I haven't done that one yet. I'm only on number 24."  
  
"Oh." Ron said, disappointed. Sighing, he went back to work.   
  
Harry was just wondering if he and Draco *would* still be meeting that night, or if he'd be too busy celebrating with his fellow Slytherins, when one of the school owls flew in though the window with a note for him. _Usual time, usual place?_ was all it said.   
  
He tore off a corner of his scroll and wrote the single word _Yes_ on it and sent it back.  
  
Soon afterward, he retired to bed. As he left, he heard Hermione say, "Harry's been sleeping a lot lately, hasn't he? But then, his schoolwork has been getting better and better. Apparently, the extra sleep's been good for him."  
  
He woke at the usual time and filled his bag with his Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Introductory Arithmancy books and sufficient scrolls and quills to get his homework done for those classes.  
  
He arrived at the room in the Astronomy Tower where he and Draco met and opened the door to find Draco already there, staring distractedly out the window. "Hey." He began.  
  
"Hi." Draco smiled at him, as Harry pulled out his books and set to work.  
  
After he'd been working on his Potions essay for a while, he looked up at Draco, who looked very Byronic staring out into the moonlit night, his hair falling into his eyes.   
  
"What's up?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco slid from the windowsill and sat on the floor next to Harry. "Are you angry that I kept my plans for today's game secret from you?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I guess I'm a *little* disappointed, but not angry."  
  
Draco gave him a lopsided smile. "That's good. Of course, I *am* sorry that I kept it from you. But as you told Ginny a while back, the fewer people who know about a conspiracy the better." His silver eyes glittered with humor.  
  
"So why'd you give up being Seeker, anyhow?"  
  
"I was just doing it to make my father happy. And to compete with you. But neither of those matter anymore. It'll also be much easier to keep up the image that we're still rivals if I get a couple of chances to knock Bludgers at you throughout the year."  
  
He continued. "And that's one of the things that Erik and I've been talking about. He pointed out that I'm really too aggressive to just sit back and wait, like a Seeker has to. I'm more of a 'go in there and beat someone silly' type."  
  
"I guess I'd have to agree with that. You certainly seem to have found your calling. How long'd it take you to work up that 'snooker play'?"  
  
Draco chuckled. "Liked that, didn't you? And I bet you'd just *love* to be able to teach that to your own Beaters. Well, guess what?   
  
"I have no idea how I do that. It's just something I . . . can do. Sort of like when you went after me in first year for stealing Neville's Remembrall."  
  
Harry snorted good-naturedly. "Like I believe that."  
  
"Really!" Draco raised his right hand as if making a pledge. "We were at practice one day and I just thought 'I wonder if I could . . . .' And I did. Everyone else on the team, and I do mean *everyone* has tried it, and none of them can do it even by accident. That's when we started setting the wards around the pitch so no-one would see us practicing."  
  
"Well, I hope you don't mind if the Gryffindor team tries it anyhow."  
  
"Go right ahead and be my guest. Let me know how it works out, will you?"  
  
They went back to their Potions homework, and after they'd finished that, Harry picked up his Introductory Arithmancy book.   
  
"You like that?" Draco indicated the book.  
  
"Actually I do. I didn't trust Hermione at first when she told me that it's a fun class, but it really is. It's certainly different from my other classes."  
  
They went back to work in companionable silence, Draco sitting on the windowsill, Harry on the floor just beneath him.   
  
After a few minutes, Harry said, "What time were you born, Draco?"  
  
"12:35."  
  
"A.M. or P.M.?" Harry began scribbling on a scrap of paper.  
  
"Half-past midnight. Why?"  
  
"We're learning some foreign algorithms for birth augurs and I don't have any idea what time of day I was born. So I figured I'd do your birth augurs instead."  
  
Draco's eyes widened. "You . . . I mean, you . . . ." He stammered.  
  
"I what?"   
  
But Harry didn't get any farther than that, for all thought fled from his mind when Draco placed his hand at the back of Harry's neck, pulling him closer and pressing his lips to Harry's.  
  
After an initial moment of shock, Harry found himself returning Draco's kiss. He slid his hands up to play with Draco's white-blond locks as Draco gently lowered him to the floor. Draco lightly nibbled at Harry's lower lip, making Harry moan softly.   
  
Draco pulled his head back and took Harry's glasses off. Then he drank in Harry's green eyes for a long moment before lowering his lips back to Harry's.   
  
Harry kissed Draco's cheek, then the hinge of his jaw, until he reached the other boy's neck, which he kissed and licked gently, sending shivers down both of their spines.   
  
Harry pushed Draco over, taking the top position and moved back up to Draco's mouth, which his kissed lingeringly.   
  
Suddenly, Harry found himself sitting upright. Panic lit Draco's silver eyes. "Harry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . " And that quickly, Draco was gone.   
  
==========   
  
A/N: Let's have a show of hands. How many of you thought "1 Samuel 18?" and looked it up in your Bibles? How many already knew what 1 Samuel 18 is?   
  
Well, for those of you who are curious and either (a) don't have Bibles, or (b) don't feel like going to get it, 1 Samuel 18 is a large part of the story of David and Jonathan.   
  
I could go on for days, quoting key verses and such, but let's just suffice it to say that some interpret the story to be just one of very close platonic friends. Others interpret it as a tale of same-sex romantic love. Much like this chapter. Are Harry and Draco just very close platonic friends? Are they experiencing same-sex romantic love? Only the following chapters will tell for sure. ;-)  
  
And for anyone who would like on-line Bible access, I refer to [The Bible Gateway][1] all of the time.   
  
Also, I'm in no way an expert on *any* sport, much less Quidditch, so I have no idea if the 'snooker play' would work in JKR's universe, but since I've moved everyone over to my universe for the duration of this story, it works over here. 8-)  
  
Would Hermione say "snooker" or "billiards"? I know she wouldn't say "pool," because that's an American term. I just have this wonderful image of Hermione saying "snoooker" with a nicely-drawn-out "oo" sound that I can't quite shake. 

   [1]: http://bible.gospelcom.net



	15. Regrets

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 16 -- Regrets  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling   
  
Warning: I guess now I can say **"This is a"** slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: For anyone who wants to know why Draco kissed Harry just as Harry was talking about his Arithmancy class, well, that question will be answered - in Chapter 17 - "Plans"!  
  
=============  
  
Harry sat there for several minutes after Draco's sudden departure, waiting for his body to adjust to Draco's sudden absence. Once his pulse and body temperature had adjusted to their new status, he sighed, picked up his things, and left the room.  
  
He took his school things back to the room he shared with Ron, Seamus and Neville, but neither his emotions nor his hormones would let him go back to sleep. So, he opened his trunk, took out the invisibility cloak, and went for a walk.   
  
Inevitably, his path took him to Hagrid's cottage. It wasn't quite dawn yet, but he could see a light in the window, and smoke coming from the chimney, so he knocked on the door.  
  
The half-giant opened the door, and, upon seeing no-one standing on his doorstep, said, "Hello, Harry! You haven't come to visit me for quite some time."  
  
Harry stepped into Hagrid's hut and took off the cloak. "Hi, Hagrid. I know I've been keeping to myself quite a bit lately, but something's come up . . ."   
  
"Doesn't it always?" Hagrid asked as he and Harry sat. "Now, unless I miss my guess, it's something to do with Professor Dumbledore, eh?"  
  
Harry looked down at his feet. "Well, yes."  
  
"Good. So long as Professor Dumbledore's watching out for you, you'll do just fine."   
  
"Actually, I have a . . . personal question I wanted to ask you about."  
  
"A personal question? Well, what is it?"  
  
"How can you tell why someone rejects you?"  
  
"Rejects you? Like in love?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes. Like, is there a way to tell if they rejected you because they just don't love you or something?"  
  
"Is this about Hermione? 'Cause if it is, I can tell you that she really loves Ron."  
  
Harry shook his head. "It's not about Hermione."  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, then . . ." Hagrid scratched his head.  
  
"It doesn't matter who the other person is. What matters is that I feel a certain way about this person but I don't think that this person feels the same way I do."  
  
"Hmm. Seems to me that the best way to find out how this person feels about you is to ask 'em."  
  
Harry snorted. "I'd do that, if the person hadn't just walked away from me stammering apologies."  
  
"Oh. Does . . . this person . . . know how you feel about them?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"Harry, it's not Ron, is it?"  
  
Harry started laughing. "Sorry, Hagrid. I'm not laughing at you. Really. No, it's not Ron."  
  
Just then, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Hagrid stood to answer it. "We'll finish this as soon as I get rid of whoever this is." Hagrid opened the door.  
  
"You? What're you doing here?" Hagrid demanded.  
  
Hagrid blocked Harry's view of his visitor, but the voice was unmistakable. "I know that Harry and his friends talk to you sometimes. And I really need someone to talk to now." It was Draco. Harry slipped on the invisibility cloak.  
  
"Look, Malfoy. I don't have any time for your games." Hagrid said testily. "I've got," he gestured to indicate Harry, but only saw an empty room. "It doesn't matter what I've got. You just get out of here."  
  
"Please, Hagrid. I'm desperate."  
  
This stopped the gamekeeper short. Draco Malfoy had never said 'please' to him, or anything else that smacked even vaguely of politeness.   
  
"All right. You can come in for a minute. But if you try anything funny, I'll have you to Dumbledore so fast it'll make your head spin. And I'll carry you there bodily myself." He finished menacingly.  
  
"Thank you, Hagrid." Draco said in the same tone a man lost in the desert would use with someone who'd just given him a glass of water.  
  
As Draco sat down in the chair that Harry had only recently vacated, he began to talk. "I have a friend who is starting to mean more to me than just friendship. I don't know if I want to risk this person's friendship, though, over romantic feelings that might not last."  
  
"*This person's* friendship must mean a lot to you." Hagrid said, looking around for Harry, who was standing behind Fang and obligingly rattled the andirons.  
  
"It does. It means everything to me." Draco responded.  
  
"Could you excuse me for a second, Malfoy? I've got to let Fang out." Hagrid walked to the door and opened it. "Go on, boy!" He said in Fang's general direction. The boarhound merely lifted his head, wagged his tail twice, then put his head back down. Harry, on the other hand, took the opportunity to get out of the hut, touching Hagrid on the arm as he walked past, to let him know that he'd gotten outside. "Eh, you're not interested in going outside. Lazy brute!" Hagrid chided his dog as he closed the door behind Harry.  
  
Harry walked away from Hagrid's hut, his mind whirling, and his heart palpitating. _Why would Draco go to Hagrid? Why wouldn't he just ask Snape about it?_  
  
That thought only needed to be formed before Harry had an answer. _Why did *you* go to Hagrid? Why not McGonagall?_ The answer? _Because Hagrid's just a guy. Not Head of House, not Professor with a capital 'P.' Just someone that I can talk to about things. And if I can talk to him, then others can, too._  
  
His heart lighter than it had been in several hours, Harry returned to his room. He put his invisibility cloak back into his trunk, which dropped closed a little too loudly and woke Ron up.   
  
"What're you doing up?" Ron asked sleepily. "Not more insomnia?" He groaned.  
  
"Actually, it is insomnia, and I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again." Harry was feeling a bit giddy with hope and sleep deprivation at this point. "Well, I'm going back to the library to get some more homework done." And with that, he left two roommates snoring, and the third one very, very confused.  
  
By the time breakfast started, Harry had finished his paper on the Chupacabras of Puerto Rico for Care of Magical Creatures. The Chupacabras they'd brought in as an example hadn't gone over very well with either the livestock or the female students, most of whom thought its eating habits disgusting. Hermione thought them interesting.  
  
As Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, he caught Draco's eye, and the Slytherin gave him a tentative half-smile. One corner of Harry's mouth crooked upwards in response, and he went to the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Did I just see you *smiling* at Draco Malfoy?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened in panic as any thought of what he might say fled his mind.  
  
Ginny came to his rescue. "Of course he wasn't smiling *at* Malfoy, Hermione. He was smiling about a conversation he and I had last night, after everyone went to bed. I'd had a nightmare, and he and I got to talking. I told him that Malfoy scares me and he suggested that I use the _riddikulus_ charm against him the next time I see him. He was smiling because I obviously hadn't given in to the temptation to dress him in a metermaid's hat and suspenders."  
  
The other Gryffindors laughed, letting Harry off the hook. He gave Ginny a grateful smile and took his place at the table. The butterflies in his stomach from seeing Draco nearly took the edge off his appetite, but everything that had happened since supper the previous night left him very hungry, so he ended up eating an omelette, bacon, toast, and two glasses of pumpkin juice.  
  
Finally, stomach distended, he pushed himself away from the table and headed up toward the Gryffindor Tower. Halfway along a deserted corridor, he was intercepted by Draco, who tried a risky opening gambit. "Hi."  
  
"Hi." Harry said a little shortly. He looked up into Draco's gray eyes, then down again immediately.  
  
"Look, Harry. I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry about what?" The last part of his question, _the kiss, or running away?_ remained unspoken.  
  
"About leaving you last night. I should have stayed to explain."  
  
Harry pulled Draco into an unused classroom. "All right. Explain."   
  
"You're quite possibly the very best friend I've ever had." Draco said with simple honesty. "And I'm afraid that if we get involved, that I'll lose that friendship."  
  
"Draco," Harry whispered, reaching a hand out and resting it lightly on Draco's cheek.   
  
Draco turned his head slightly, kissing Harry's palm.   
  
"I don't know what might come of this. But I do know that I'm," _in love with you_ "strongly attracted to you. And not in a 'just friends' kind of way." Harry assured him, smiling.  
  
Draco leaned forward, kissing Harry gently, then sat back up, his silver eyes looking into Harry's green ones. "God, I wish we could be seen together in public. Even as just friends, it'd be better than all of this sneaking around."  
  
Draco walked around Harry and put his arms around him, resting his chin on his head. They stood there for a few minutes, just holding each other and enjoying being close, watching the world outside through the window.  
  
Eventually, reluctantly, Draco let go of Harry. "I've got to go." He said, kissing Harry on the cheek. "*They* will be looking for me." He rolled his eyes.  
  
Harry sighed. "Meet you tonight?"  
  
"Of course." Draco kissed Harry on the lips once, then came back for another, longer, kiss. "See you."  
  
"Bye." Harry heard the door open, then close again. He watched out the window a while longer, savoring the memory of Draco's arms around him, when he heard the door open and close again.   
  
"Back so soon?" He asked, smiling. When he saw who was standing there, he exclaimed, "Ginny!"   
  
"I assume you were expecting someone else?" She asked with a knowing smile. "Draco Malfoy, perhaps?"   
  
"Umm . . ." Harry felt himself starting to blush.  
  
"That's all right." Her smile grew wider. "I saw him leaving. That's how I knew where you were. Anyone who didn't know that the two of you are really friends wouldn't put two and two together. If you're just friends, that is."  
  
"We're mostly just friends?" Harry asked hopefully.  
  
"'Mostly just friends'?"  
  
"Well, would you buy just friends possibly on the way to something more?"  
  
"Oh, really? Do tell." Ginny sat cross-legged on the table in the front of the room.   
  
"I think I'm falling in love with him, and I think that he might be falling in love with me. But we're both a little leery of taking that next step and becoming an actual couple."  
  
"Well." Ginny smiled at him warmly. "You'll make the right decision about this. You always do. Well, nearly always."  
  
All of the emotions and homework of the previous day had Harry exhausted, so he spent a good portion of the day reading his novel by the lake. Being November, it was one of the last good days of the year, which meant that it was neither raining nor *quite* freezing.   
  
_I'll just close my eyes for a second,_ Harry thought, resting his book on his chest and lying back on the grass.  
  
When Harry opened his eyes, it was fully-dark outside. At least, it looked dark around Draco, who was nudging him with his foot, saying loudly, "Hey, Potter! Wake up, would you?"  
  
Harry sat up. "What time's it?"  
  
"Suppertime." Draco whispered. "See you tonight." And with that, Draco headed for the castle, leaving Harry out on the lawn, where it was just beginning to rain.  
  
After he'd picked up his novel, Harry took off running for the castle, but was still drenched by the time he got in the front door. Draco was nowhere to be found. _Did I imagine him?_ Harry wondered, but he could smell supper coming from the Great Hall and, casting a drying charm on himself, went in to dinner.  
  
Later that night, after they'd finished their homework, Harry and Draco lay on the floor of their room in the Astronomy Tower, looking out at the stars. "After all," Draco whispered in Harry's ear, "that's why they call it an Astronomy Tower." Draco lifted Harry's hand to his lips, kissing it softly.  
  
"Erk!" Harry sat bolt upright, clutching his head.  
  
"What is it?" Draco sat up and put a gentle hand on Harry's arm.  
  
"It's my scar. It hurts . . . sometimes."  
  
"Sometimes like when?"  
  
"Sometimes like when Voldemort's planning something." 


	16. Plans

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 17 - Plans  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling   
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: I apologize now to anyone with pro-Death Eater sentiments for Harry's jokes at the end of the chapter.   
=============  
  
The next morning, Harry was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast to go down to the dungeons for Potions when Draco pulled him down a darkened corridor, saying, "Come here."  
  
"Draco, do you really think this is a good idea right now? We do have Potions now, and while Snape's really understanding . . . ."   
  
Harry's protests faded when Snape's voice interrupted. "Potions class has been cancelled today, Mr. Potter. Something more important has come up."   
  
Draco had led Harry into a room across the hall from the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore and Snape were there. Once the four had assembled, Dumbledore led them into the hallway, spoke the password to the gargoyle, and they proceeded upstairs.  
  
"We're meeting because Mr. Malfoy has something to tell us." Dumbledore began once they were all seated.  
  
"Yes." Draco sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Dumbledore and Snape have already seen this." He handed it to Harry.  
  
_The Dark Lord has spoken. You must befriend Harry Potter. Let bygones be bygones.  
  
Lull him into a false sense of security._  
  
Harry felt all of the blood drain from his hands as he read this, and the paper fluttered from his numb fingers to the floor.   
  
"Harry? Are you all right?" Draco asked.  
  
"What are you trying to tell me?" Harry responded.  
  
Dumbledore smiled benignly. "I want to assure you that this hasn't all been some kind of plot against you, Harry. That note is new. Just received from Lucius Malfoy today."  
  
"It was?" Hope flaring in his breast, Harry looked from Draco, to Dumbledore, to Snape, who all had similar, reassuring expressions on their faces. _Well, that explains why my scar was hurting last night. No sense worrying Dumbledore about that, then._  
  
Harry let out a breath, and took Draco's hand. "So," he asked Dumbledore, "what does this mean?"  
  
"It means that we can start to be civil to each other in public." Draco said cheerfully.  
  
"Well, yes, that is one of the meanings of this note. But the other, more important, meaning is that Voldemort is going to try to move against you through Draco somehow. Or possibly Draco is to somehow make it possible for Voldemort to move against you directly."  
  
"What do we need to do?" Harry asked.  
  
"The two most important things for you to do are to work out a way for Draco to pursue a friendship with you in public."  
  
"It'd be best for Potter to," Snape snickered, "play hard-to-get."  
  
Draco and Harry just looked at the Potions master, who was shaking with laughter by then.   
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat, attempting to keep some of his own dignity intact. "Yes. Well, that *would* be a good plan, because the longer we can drag this process out, the longer we have to figure out what Voldemort's plan could be."  
  
He continued. "The other thing you need to do is to work out a communication system - a type of code - so that if Voldemort uses anything similar to the _imperius_ curse on one of you, there will be signs that the other one can pick up on. But somehow, I don't think that will be a problem for you, either."  
  
That evening, Harry and Draco sat on the windowsill of their room in the Astronomy Tower. Draco was leaning against the jamb; Harry sat in front of him, leaning back against Draco's chest.  
  
"Damn my father!" Draco swore, his grip on Harry tightening.   
  
"You want to talk about him? I'm here to listen."  
  
"Yeah. I think I'd like that."   
  
Harry sat up and turned, leaning back against the other jamb while Draco started.  
  
"My problems with my father started when I was born," Draco said with a wry grin. "And I do mean that literally. Did you ever get around to doing those birth augurs you were talking about? The ones that I kissed you to distract you from?" Draco blushed a little in the moonlight.  
  
Harry nodded. "But I must have done them wrong."  
  
"Let me guess. No matter what algorithm you used, you came up with the same thing - that my downfall would be because of a dragon."  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Because that's the only thing *anyone* gets when they do my birth augurs. It's why my father named me Draco.  
  
"As he always said, 'I named you Draco to always remind you that the only one who will be your downfall will be yourself.'"  
  
"That's a good thing, though, isn't it? 'I am the master of my fate,' doesn't the Muggle saying go?" Harry asked.  
  
"No. When I said 'will be' I meant it. He used to harass me about it, about how I'd make some huge mistake sometime that would destroy everything he'd worked for. It was just a matter of time until I blew it."  
  
Harry whistled softly.   
  
"He harassed me constantly. Calling me 'Dragon,' like it was an endearment. Even if I didn't buy into his crap, which I mostly didn't, with that constant reminder of the prediction hanging over my head, is it any wonder I'm afraid of dragons?"  
  
Then Harry sat up a little. "Wait a minute! A dragon really *was* your downfall."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well, if Charlie hadn't come with Norbert, I wouldn't have seen that you were afraid of dragons. And that little glimpse of humanity is why I asked you why you hated me so much. And if *that* hadn't happened, we would never be where we are today."  
  
"That's one way to look at it, I guess." Draco admitted. "Of course, I really don't think of you as anything like a downfall." 

Harry leaned forward and gave Draco a quick kiss.  
  
Draco continued. "My father was always about keeping up appearances. I could never *admit* that I was afraid, of course. And if you've ever tried to repress a fear, you'll know that only makes it stronger.  
  
"But there were other things. Dumbledore lets people see some sign of what my father would consider weaknesses. Hiring Hagrid on as gamekeeper even though he'd been a suspect in the death of that Mud . . . Muggle-born when he was a student. Hiring a former Death Eater to teach Potions. He gives people second chances. Not a trait my father admires."  
  
"Even though a second chance is something your father relies on."  
  
"How so?"  
  
Harry related what he had seen and heard the night of Voldemort's rising, emphasizing Voldemort's displeasure that Lucius had even so much as given the appearance of having reformed after Voldemort's downfall, and how Lucius had figuratively cringed at his Dark Lord's feet, thanking him for his mercy.  
  
"Tell me that one again!" Draco urged, but Harry just rolled his eyes.   
  
"No. Well, maybe later. I noticed," Harry continued, "that you didn't use the term 'Mudblood.' Have you reconsidered your anti-Muggle-born stand?"  
  
"That's still another thing I hate my father for. He's a hypocrite." Draco squirmed around on the windowsill so that his back was pressed up against Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco comfortingly.  
  
"You know that pure blood I'm so proud of?" Draco asked rhetorically. "Well, didn't you wonder why I blushed when you said that I look like a veela?  
  
"It's because I *am* part veela, Harry. My great-grandmother was one."  
  
Harry let out a genuine gasp of surprise at this.  
  
"My great-grandfather had a mistress. Not that unusual. But his mistress was a veela. His wife was sterile? Infertile? Barren? Whatever. She couldn't have babies. However, his mistress could.   
  
"So, great-granddad made his son by the veela his heir, and that's the deep, dark, Malfoy family secret. Unless you count the whole Death Eater thing, I guess." Draco grinned and Harry kissed the top of his head.  
  
"Oh, so you're part veela." Harry nodded sagely. "That explains this unaccountable attraction I have for you . . ."  
  
"Don't *even* joke about that, Harry."  
  
The seriousness in Draco's tone stopped Harry short. "Sorry." He apologized. "I really was just kidding."  
  
"I know," Draco admitted. "But it feels - wrong -- for you to say that you only love me because I have some kind of supernatural power over you, even in jest."  
  
Harry wondered if he could get Draco to say the word 'love' again. Then again, he considered the very real possibility that it was a slip and that pointing it out would lead to an embarrassed replay of the night of their first kiss, when Draco stammered an apology and then disappeared.  
  
"You know," Draco brought Harry back to reality by speaking. "What you told me about the Dark Lord giving my father a second chance makes this make sense now." He touched the spot on his arm where the Dark Mark lay hidden in his robes.  
  
"Oh? How?"  
  
"My father never told me about this, but he didn't know that I was awake when he and my mother were discussing how I I was a sacrifice."  
  
Harry gasped and pulled Draco closer.  
  
Draco snorted. "Of course, isn't a sacrifice usually something of value? If it is, I wouldn't know why the Dark Lord would want me. My father has never really valued me. Spoiled, yes. Valued, no. Maybe he valued me like he values an antique, or some livestock or something."   
  
Harry sensed that Draco was becoming depressed. He didn't know if he could do anything about it, but he intended to try.   
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you feel like you owe the Death Eaters any loyalty?"  
  
He snorted. "No. Of course not."  
  
"All right then, what do you call 5,000 Death Eaters at the bottom of the ocean?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"A good start."  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry.  
  
He tried another one. "How many Death Eaters does it take to roof a house?"  
  
"Got me."  
  
"Depends on how thin you slice them."  
  
"Harry!" Draco exclaimed in mock outrage.  
  
"If a Death Eater and an MRS agent were both drowning, and you could only save one of them, would you go to lunch or read the paper?"  
  
"I can't believe you!" Draco started laughing despite himself.  
  
"What is brown and black and looks good on a Death Eater?"  
  
"I haven't a clue." Draco was already starting to laugh.  
  
"A doberman."  
  
Draco spluttered and just let himself laugh. "These are terrible! Where did you hear them?"  
  
"The latest owl from Fred and George. Apparently, now that Voldemort's rising is public knowledge, they're all the rage in some circles."  
  
Draco, breathing heavily from laughing, smiled at Harry. "Thanks. I needed the laugh, after today's owl from Father."  
  
"You're very welcome," Harry said, running his hands up in Draco's hair and pulling him gently towards him for a kiss. "You're very, very handsome when you smile."  
  
"Are you implying that I'm not handsome when I don't smile?"  
  
"No, when you don't smile, you're merely very handsome." Harry and Draco kissed again.  
  
Draco sighed. "Well, I guess now we should deal with the question of how I'm going to follow Father's instructions."  
  
===============  
  
Footnote: I don't think that Draco considers himself a real Death Eater, Dark Mark notwithstanding, but just in case, I'll start on Chapter 18 pronto, so Draco doesn't have time to mull the jokes over and get all morose about how Harry must have meant bad things about him by them. Draco has a tendency toward melancholy that way. And was that just the longest sentence I've ever written? I think it was . . . 8-) 


	17. Snow

The next morning, Draco and Harry put their plan into action

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 18  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling   
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.

=============

The next morning, Draco and Harry put their plan into action. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, surreptitiously watching Draco talking to Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy. If he was right, Draco should be telling them about his father's note right . . . . Now!

As expected Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy gasped in shock. {Draco must have just told them that he has to befriend me.}

Draco dropped his knife on the floor and leaned over to pick it up. 

"Well, it's showtime." He whispered to Ginny.

"Good luck." She whispered back.

Harry stood, picking up his books and assignment for Herbology, and began to walk towards the door of the Great Hall, taking a path that went as close as possible to the Slytherin table. As if there were an "x" marked on the floor, at the pre-arranged place, Draco collided with Harry, knocking the Gryffindor over and sending his class materials scattering across the floor. 

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy!" Harry snarled as he started struggling to his feet. 

"Sorry, Potter." Draco said in a tone somewhere between tense and cordial. 

As Harry stood, Draco picked up his Herbology textbook and handed it to him. Harry took the book with a markedly bad humor. 

Harry squatted down and picked up his other materials. All of them, that is, except for his homework scroll. Harry walked away from Draco without another word. 

As Harry moved on, he glanced back to make sure that Draco had retrieved Harry's homework scroll and taken it back to the Slytherin table.

He kept count of the steps of their plan as he walked out to the greenhouses. Sure enough, as he rounded the corner of the castle and could see the greenhouses in the distance, he heard Draco yelling, "Potter! Hold on a second!"

Harry sighed as he slowed to a stop. "What is it now, Malfoy?"

"You missed this when you picked up your other things." Draco said reasonably.

"And what'd you do to it?" Harry asked mistrustfully. Several Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on their way to the greenhouses slowed to listen to their exchange.

"Nothing. Not a thing. I swear."

"Right, Malfoy. I intend to check this over as soon as I get down to the greenhouse to make sure you didn't sabotage it or blot out words or anything."

"Well, in that case," the group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had grown larger by now, "you might want to re-check your spelling of the botanical name for the larch. It's l-a-r-i-*x*, not l-a-r-i-s."

Harry ground his teeth together. "Whatever." 

"Don't ever say that I never tried to help you." Draco shrugged nonchalantly, turned and headed off to his next class.

Harry bite the inside of his mouth to keep from smirking as he walked the rest of the way to the greenhouses. Their plan had worked remarkably well. He could hear the other Herbology students speculating about their exchange. 

"Did you see that? Draco Malfoy just did something to help Harry Potter."

"Guess what just happened! Harry Potter blew off Draco Malfoy!"

And so on. It was all working far better than they'd planned.

At lunch, the first thing Neville said to Harry was "I hear Malfoy's trying to make amends with you."

Feeling a little bad about doing it, Harry kept the pretense going. "He's up to something. I wouldn't trust Draco Malfoy as far as I can throw him."

"That's too bad. Madam Pomfrey tells me that when he was in hospital a couple of months back, he wasn't all that bad. Pity if you reject a true offer of friendship over things that are all in the past now."

Harry quailed at this, but one glance at Ginny gave him back his strength. "It'll be a cold day before I'll ever trust Draco Malfoy."

They met in the Astronomy Tower as usual that night, but a light snow had just begun to fall, and Draco was agitating to go outside.

"No, Draco. What part of 'secret' don't you understand?"

"Harry. It's 2:00 in the morning. There's no moon, and it's overcast besides, so no-one will see us. We all but have Dumbledore's approval to go wherever we want whenever we want. Why stay hidden on a beautiful night like this?"

"And what if we run into Filch out there? You know that Dumbledore would never tell him just to let us go. Would you be willing to risk a Filch detention *and* have our relationship revealed just to go romping in the snow?"

"Since when were *you* ever the voice of reason? Sneaking out at night to send dragon hatchlings to Romania. Wearing your invisibility cloak to go into Hogsmeade while a killer's after you."

Harry began regretting having told Draco so many of his secrets. "It was only one dragon hatchling. And Sirius wasn't after me at all. He wanted Wormtail."

"Harry, do you think that the Dark Lord's gonna send Death Eaters here on a moment's notice to kill us if we go outside or something?"

"No. Of course not -- "

"Great! Then let's go!" And without allowing Harry any argument, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him out into the snow.

It was the kind of night that would convince even the most hardened Muggle of the existence of magic. The fact that Harry and Draco were wizards, and in love, made it only that much more magical. Silently, they ran hand-in-hand, the falling snow swirling around them, until they were far away from where anyone, except possibly the real Mad-Eye Moody, could see them. Then Harry stopped Draco and pulled him in for a kiss. 

Their lips massaged each other's gently at first, then with increasing intensity. Draco quickly flicked his tongue along the inner edge of Harry's lips, making the young Gryffindor moan softly in his throat, as snow collected in their eyelashes. 

Finally, they broke apart. "You have snow in your hair." Draco grinned at Harry.

Harry reached up and ruffled Draco's hair, sending a spray of snow in all directions. "So did you." He grinned.

"Hello, there!" Harry heard Hagrid's booming voice. 

"It's Hagrid!" Harry's eyes widened as he looked at Draco, then glanced around fruitlessly for somewhere for one, or possibly both, of them to hide.

By then, it was too late. "Harry? Malfoy?" Hagrid asked once he could focus on their faces. "I've been hearing some unusual rumors about you two."

Harry's heart leapt into his throat. "Rumors?"

"Yep. That *you*," he looked at Draco, "have been offering friendship to Harry, here, and that *you*," he looked at Harry, "have been rejecting it."

Harry briefly considered picking a fight with Draco, but reconsidered when Hagrid said, "I'm glad to see that the two of you have worked out your differences."

"What?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.

But before Hagrid could answer, Draco said, "I guess Dumbledore's belief in second chances has rubbed off?"

Hagrid smiled. "I guess it has."

"I'll try to deserve it." Draco said sincerely.

"Just don't hurt him." Hagrid indicated Harry.

"I won't."

Hagrid directed this to Harry. "And if you're hiding your relationship because you're afraid no-one will understand . . ."

"We aren't." Harry assured him. "We're doing it because of Voldemort. Please don't say anything to anyone."

Hagrid ruffled Harry's hair. "I won't say a word. But you two'd probably better get back to your rooms." And with that, the half-giant stalked off into the forest.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Harry said to Draco.

"But Hagrid's right, you know."

"About what?"

"We'd better get back to the school. I think the sun's starting to come up." 

They walked as close to the school as they dared, then shared one last kiss before splitting up and heading into the building separately.


	18. Untitled

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 19  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling   
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.

A/N: Oh, look! I'm finally really earning my PG13! Harry and Draco talk about sex in this one! (Singing: _Let's talk about sex, baby, Let's talk about you and me . . ._)

=============

Suffering from slightly frostbitten toes, but full of a warm, tingly feeling inside, Harry crawled back into his bed and got a few hours of sleep. He was awakened by Ron. "Harry! It snowed out last night."

"I know." Harry responded without thinking.

"How did you know?"

Harry sighed. "I had another attack of insomnia last night and when I got up, it was just starting to snow."

"Another one? You know, Hermione and I've been talking, and we're starting to worry about you."

"Don't worry. I'm fine."

"We saw you with Malfoy yesterday, and . . ."

While Ron searched for words, Harry panicked. Thoughts whirled through his mind. _They saw me with Draco? Yesterday? Last night? While we were outside?_

" . . . you just didn't seem yourself . . ."

_Oh, God. _

"I mean, you used to be able to be civil to Draco. I remember on the train our first year, you were even almost polite to him. But now, he brings your assignment back to you, which he really didn't have to do, and you were . . . insulting to him."

"You are defending Draco Malfoy?" Harry prayed silently that perhaps Ron and Hermione might be accepting of his relationship with Draco, once they were finally able to go public with it.

"Of course not." Ron snorted. "But, like I said, it seems like he's *trying* to be civil. And I'm just wondering if the sleep deprivation's getting to you or something."

"I'm fine, Ron. I once thought that Draco Malfoy and I could be friends, but that thought lasted only until he opened his mouth. Now I know for certain that he's just not worth the effort." Harry said, perhaps a bit too shortly before heading off to the showers.

After breakfast, the Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went down to Potions, where they paired off in their usual way, Harry and Ron, Hermione and Neville. _I hope that Draco was able to convince Snape to follow our plan._ Harry thought, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. _I know that Pansy'll go along, especially if she thinks that this is the best way to make Lucius happy._

Soon enough, the entire class was assembled and, as planned, Draco and Pansy had paired off. Once Snape was deeply into his lecture on flying potions -- including an extensive in-depth look into why they were banned -- Pansy used a small hex to tickle the back of Ron's left ear. 

"Harry?" Ron whispered, "did you just tickle my ear?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope." He whispered back. 

"Is something the matter, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked.

"No, sir."

Another tickle -- this time, his right ear.

"*Someone's* tickling my ear."

Harry gave a token glance around the room. "Dunno." He shrugged.

"Well, keep your eyes open."

"Mr. Weasley, would you care to share what I'm sure is your riveting point of view on flying potions with the entire class?"

"No, sir. It's just --" Ron stopped again.

A quick brush across the back of Ron's neck. This time, Ron stood upright, knocking his chair over in the process. He turned around just in time to see Pansy lowering her wand. "It's Parkinson, sir. She's tickling me."

"Parkinson, is that true?"

"Yes, sir." Pansy responded with a smirk.

"That'll be five points from Slytherin and Gryffindor. Parkinson, Potter, you two trade seats."

"But, sir," Ron protested, but he was silenced by a look from Snape that clearly said that he was perfectly willing to take points from Gryffindor if Ron kept arguing.

Sulkily, both Harry and Pansy stood, picked up their books and traded seats.

Since the laws prohibited the creation of true flying potions, their laboratory exercise was to make a potion similar in theory, that makes inanimate objects lighter than air.

Draco brought his cauldron to the table while Harry got the ingredients. "I'll get them. You'd probably sabotage it somehow." Harry told Draco in a perfectly normal tone of voice. 

"I know why you would think that of me, and I'm sorry." Draco said in a tone that seemed truly penitent.

When Harry brought the ingredients back, both young men reached for the first ingredient together, brushing their hands together, which sent a tingle down Harry's spine and, from the look in his partner's face, did the same to Draco. 

This seemed to begin Draco's calculated assault on Harry's sensibilities. He 'accidentally' reached to stir it at the same time as Harry did, causing Harry to grab Draco's hand rather than the stirrer. When Harry dropped the yak's eye on the floor, Draco trailed a slow finger over the back of Harry's neck. 

When he stood, Harry said, exasperated, "Dr --" but caught himself there, blushing. 

Draco stuck the tip of his tongue out at Harry and winked.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy, Malfoy?" Harry demanded aloud.

Draco blinked. "What did I do?" He demanded.

Harry, unable to respond, simply pursed his lips and went back to work.

As they left the classroom, which still had a number of quills and other paraphernalia levitating near the ceiling, Harry could hear Draco rejoining his cronies, "I don't know what to do about him. You two'd better help me, 'cause if my father gets wind of how miserably I'm failing at winning Harry's trust, we'll all three of us pay."

Later that evening, when they were alone together, Harry looked up from his Potions essay -- Snape had asked them to research and create a potion to remove the buoyancy of the objects they'd used that day's potion on -- Harry asked Draco, "That was actually a genuine question. Were you really trying to drive me crazy?"

Draco correctly took this as an invitation to kiss Harry. "Why? Did I interfere with your concentration?" He asked when they parted.

"Just a little." Harry responded with a grin, tackling Draco and kissing him again. "Study break!" He announced kissing Draco one more time.

After their study break, they lay in each other's arms on the floor. "Harry?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Are you a virgin?"

"Yes . . . You?"

Draco nodded wordlessly. 

"The great ladies' man, Draco Malfoy, is still a virgin?" Harry couldn't help but laugh. "How'd that happen?"

"Well, my father's idea of talking to me about sex was to tell me that if I let the Malfoy family seed fall into the wrong hands, he'd kill me. I've just never been sure who the right hands were, so I just sort of . . . kept it to myself."

"What am I?" Harry asked, merely curious.

Draco grinned and kissed Harry's nose. "You are definitely the right hands. Once this whole mess with my father's over, that is."

Harry sighed, cuddling closer to Draco and smirking. "I think I can live with that." 

Several weeks passed in a flurry of activity, Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin beat Hufflepuff in Quidditch. Harry *had* to root for Hufflepuff openly, but he and Draco celebrated Slytherin's victory privately with food each had lifted from the kitchens separately. 

"It is interesting, Harry Potter." Dobby said when Harry came down for his share of the food, "Draco Malfoy was just down here looking for food, too," which made Harry wonder how much Dobby knew about his relationship with Draco. Harry, leaving is worries at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower's spiral staircase, went up to meet his love.

"And we didn't need to use the 'snooker play' at all." Draco grinned after he swallowed a mouthful of venison. "Though you could just *see* them watching for it the whole game."

"Well, Aaron's an excellent Seeker." Harry smiled. "And Erik was a great choice for Keeper." His grin grew. "And outside of my own team, of course, I've never seen such good Chasers, and -- oof!" 

"But what about my team's Beaters?" Draco insisted from his new position on top of his boyfriend.

"Beaters? Oh, well, I guess they're all right." Harry laughed as Draco began tickling him. "All right! Yes, you are by far the best Beater I've ever seen." He looked up into Draco's eyes and kissed him thoroughly.

Their kiss was ended by Harry wincing in pain. The initial pain passed quickly, leaving a sort of tight, burned feeling on his skin.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Draco asked, concernedly.

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "I'm fine. But you can expect another owl from your father in the morning."


	19. Adventures in Haberdashery

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.

Chapter 20 – Adventures in Haberdashery  
_Draco broadens his horizons.  
Harry gets a surprise. _   
  
A/N: In my universe, wizards (particularly purists like the Malfoys) wear underwear, not muggle clothing, beneath their robes. Based on the prevalent ff.com theory that muggle and wizard cultures were the same until around the "burning times" (circa 1300 a.d.), men wear medieval underpants called [braies][1] (probably most like the top picture) and women wear a sort of linen slip/kirtle-type thing.  
  
And, after research I think that maybe "haberdashery" is an American term. It means men's clothing.  
  
============  
  
Sure enough, the next morning, as Harry walked back towards the Gryffindor Tower, Draco intercepted him and dragged him off toward Dumbledore's office.  
  
"So," he asked as they walked, "can you predict owls from *anyone's* father?"  
  
Harry smiled and shook his head. "No. Just yours."  
  
Draco looked askance at Harry, who grinned and explained. "It's my scar. It hurts whenever Voldemort is planning something against me. I figured if Voldemort had an idea last night, we'd be hearing it from your father today. So? What did he say?"  
  
Draco shook his head and pulled Harry in for a kiss. "Oh, no. You'll just have to wait until we get to Dumbledore's office."  
  
When they reached the gargoyle, they were joined by Snape, who gave the password, Lemon Lifts, and the three went up to Dumbledore's office.  
  
"So, I take it you've heard from your father again?" Dumbledore asked as they took their usual seats in his office.  
  
"Yes, sir." Draco took out the note and read it aloud to the other three, "_Crabbe and Goyle tell me that you're making progress with Potter. The Dark Lord says that we must move on to the next phase of our plan. Send me word by return owl when you've found a ruby the size and shape of a hen's egg. It is probably located near the entrance_."  
  
Dumbledore let out a low whistle. "He's good."  
  
Draco and Harry noticed that Snape was silently fuming. They could practically see the smoke coming from the Potions Master's ears.  
  
"What's that mean?" Harry asked, "a ruby the size and shape of a hen's egg?"  
  
"Voldemort's plan is to strike here. At Hogwarts. The ruby is the source of the charm that prevents Apparating and Disapparating on campus." Snape snapped.   
  
Harry's heart stopped and he could see from the increased pallor on Draco's face that his boyfriend had the same thought. "But -- here? What about the students?"  
  
"We'll have to send them home." Snape said.  
  
"Not necessarily, Severus." Dumbledore responded. "Remember, we're forewarned. We can control, to some extent at least, the timing of his strike."  
  
"To what end?" The Potions Master sneered.  
  
"To the end of having the barrier removed at the beginning of the winter break. Most of the students go home for the break, and of those few who remain, we'll send all of the students except for Harry to stay in Hogsmeade until after we've disposed of Voldemort."  
  
"And Potter will, of course, be a decoy." Snape gave Harry a grin that bordered on malicious.  
  
"Perhaps he will, Severus. But perhaps it will be he who, once again, has the power to defeat Voldemort."  
  
"What?!?" Snape exclaimed, outraged. "Is it not enough that so many of our number died to stop the Dark Lord before, only to have a one year old **child** do what your extensive network of spies could not? Is all of my work once again to be in vain?!?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "That's why you've hated me all these years."  
  
"Yes." A wild-eyed Snape responded. "Yes, it is. You were the fabulous, famous Boy Who Lived, while my comrades, my friends, my . . . ." He visibly cut that thought short. "We suffered and died for the cause, and all along, all we needed to do was hit 'im with your forehead!"  
  
"But, Professor Snape," Harry offered in a soft tone. "I didn't know . . ."  
  
"You didn't *care*!"   
  
"Don't you talk to him that way!" Draco leapt to his feet and yelled directly into Snape's face. "He lost *everything* that night!"  
  
"Not everything." Snape responded coldly. "He's still breathing."  
  
The two young men stared Snape down, each of the three refusing to budge, until Dumbledore's voice brought them back to attention.   
  
"Excuse me, Severus, Harry, Draco."  
  
All three looked, reluctantly, at Dumbledore.  
  
"It seems to me that this is something we needed to get out into the open. I'm glad we've finally gotten here." Dumbledore said, ever the voice of reason.  
  
"Severus, would you like to express your grievance to Harry in a more civilized tone?"  
  
With a visible application of will, Snape calmed down and said, "I am. . . upset that no-one ever gave any of my comrades the credit they deserve for their sacrifices. Instead, everyone looks to Potter as their salvation from the Dark Lord."  
  
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, "Is there anything you'd care to say in response?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Professor Snape," Harry turned his green eyes on the Potions Master, "I am very sorry that the contributions of you and your friends are overlooked, but that's none of my doing. I was raised among Muggles and until I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts had no idea of any of this. Until they were forcibly restored by things like the Dementors, my only memory of that night was a flash of green light."  
  
Snape opened his mouth to raise an objection, but Harry beat him to it. "I know, I've been at Hogwarts for seven years now, and have never said anything about your contribution. Because I. didn't. know. about. it." He enunciated clearly.  
  
"The only reason I ever found out about you working as a spy for Professor Dumbledore in the first place was because I sort of stumbled into his Pensieve in my fourth year and lived through Karkaroff's trial, when he named you a Death Eater, and Professor Dumbledore defended you. Hardly the sort of thing I could just begin a conversation with you about. 'Say, Professor Snape, I was eavesdropping on Professor Dumbledore's private thoughts, and . . .'" Harry shrugged, to illustrate the futility of that line of reasoning.  
  
Snape looked over at Dumbledore, then back at Harry, giving the young Gryffindor a half-smile. "Haven't you learned yet, Potter, that nothing having to do with Albus is ever an accident."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say 'never,' Severus," Dumbledore responded, blushing slightly.  
  
"*Nearly* nothing having to do with Albus is an accident." Snape corrected himself pointedly. "Tell me, Potter. How did you happen onto Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve? I'll bet you just happened to be left alone in the room with it."  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"I thought so. Unless I miss my guess, Albus *wanted* you to know about my history. Did you see anything else?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Barty Crouch, and Ludo Bagman." Harry paused and added, sincerely, "I really didn't know about . . . everything that happened, Professor Snape. And I'd like to learn more, if you'd tell me."  
  
Snape nodded solemnly and Harry thought that perhaps he and the Potions Master would be finding peace between them soon. "I should have been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," he admitted, "but I lost someone important to me during the war against Voldemort. It was in her memory that I went back to the side of the Light."  
  
Harry was taken aback by the sorrow in Snape's eyes. He'd never thought of Snape that way before, as someone who'd been in love once. "I'm sorry." Harry apologized sincerely, unconsciously reaching across for Draco's hand.  
  
"I know, and I'm sorry for taking it so personally, as well." Snape responded as sincerely.  
  
"So, now that we've cleared all that up, why don't we finalize the next step of our plans and then adjourn?" Dumbledore asked. "Draco, please owl your father back and tell him that you'll begin searching and that you'll send him another owl when you've found the ruby, which will, coincidentally enough, be the day before you return home for winter break."  
  
"But --" Draco insisted. "I don't want to leave Harry to face the Dark Lord alone!"  
  
"Which would you prefer, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked. "To be here to support him, or to go home to keep up appearances and ensure his safety?"  
  
Draco swallowed hard. "I'll go home, sir."  
  
"I thought you would."  
  
The four conspirators separated then. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry and Draco went into a nearby disused classroom to say their farewells.   
  
After they'd kissed, Harry said, "See you tonight." and was rewarded with Draco's most charming smirk. "What?" Harry asked.   
  
"Nothing." Draco said. Harry could tell he was lying.  
  
"Come on, Draco." Harry cuddled up to his boyfriend, nuzzling Draco just behind his jaw.   
  
"Oh, no. You'll find out soon enough." Draco smiled and evaded Harry's next lunge. "See you tonight." He winked at Harry and left the room.  
  
Harry spent the rest of the day extremely distracted, wondering what it was that Draco had planned for that night. He was certain it would be a good surprise, but it was driving him mad that he didn't know exactly what the surprise would be.   
  
Finally, night fell and as the moon climbed the cloud-scattered sky, Harry made his way to the Astronomy Tower. Draco was already there waiting, smiling a secretive half-grin.  


"So? What's your surprise?" Harry asked.  
  
"You'll have to find out for yourself." Draco teased.  
  
Harry and Draco shared a long, lingering kiss then. Harry grasped at his boyfriend's back, then as his hands drifted lower, he pulled away from the kiss and looked curiously at Draco. "What do you have under your robes?" Instead of the smoothness of Draco's usual linen wizarding underwear, he felt something . . . bulkier.  
  
Draco grinned. "That's my surprise. I hope you like it." He added nervously as his hands went to the buttons on his robe.   
  
A moment later, the tall, blond Slytherin stood bathed in moonlight wearing a formfitting gray T-shirt and blue jeans.   
  
"Muggle clothing?" Harry asked astounded. His eyes traveled up and down Draco's lithe form, and he unconsciously touched the corners of his mouth to see if he was drooling.  
  
"Yes." Draco shrugged. "I've never worn muggle clothing before. I hope you like it. I also hope they're on right." He added dubiously.  
  
"Yes, they're on right. And as for whether I like them . . ." Harry grabbed a handful of they gray knit fabric of Draco's shirt and pulled him in for a kiss that left no doubt whether Harry liked them.  
  
A while later, during which Harry got the opportunity of skinning the gray T-shirt from Draco's body, they lay together in a pool of moonlight on the floor. "So, was that definitive enough for you?" Harry asked, grinning against Draco's chest.  
  
"Mm-hmmm." Draco agreed, lifting his head and kissing the top of Harry's head. "Muggle clothes are very confusing, aren't they?"  
  
"Well, I guess they would be if you aren't used to them. What happened? And how did you get these?" Harry rolled over onto his stomach and rested his chin on his arms.  
  
"In reverse order, I got them from Hagrid. He has a friend who sells muggle clothes and so he took my robe measurements and got his friend to send these to me. Of course, Hagrid spent a lot of time mumbling about how he'll kill me if I ever hurt you, which I'd never, ever do.   
  
"And, well, these weren't so bad," he indicated his jeans, "but I think I put the shirt on backwards the first time. The, whasis ..., tag, goes in the back, right?"  
  
Harry smiled. "Yeah, the tag goes in the back."  
  
"I thought as much. With it in the front, the collar pressed in here." He pointed at the base of his throat. "Very uncomfortable. So I put it on the other way, and it came down around here," he indicated his collarbones, "and was much more comfortable."  
  
"You got the pants on right, though."   
  
Draco nodded. "That was easy. My braies tie in the front. I figured this thing," he pointed at the fly, "would go in front, too."  
  
"How did you get your braies on under those?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "I didn't."  
  
"So what did you do for underwear?"  
  
"Underwear?"  
  
============

  
Next: Fluff with a side of Angst  


   [1]: http://www.historicenterprises.com/bsd/braies.html target=_blank



	20. The Last Day?

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 21 - The Last Day?  
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
===========  
  
It was the day before the Hogwarts students left for their winter break. Draco had sent the owl to his father, letting him know that he had found the ruby, and the students were getting ready for a dance. Speculation ran rampant in the school about why they were having a dance, since the last one had been three years earlier, during the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
What no one except Harry, Draco and Ginny knew was that this dance was Dumbledore's gift to two students who were about to risk everything - Draco by returning to his father's grasp, Harry by remaining at Hogwarts, where Voldemort was due to attack in days.  
  
Some students were attending dateless, and Harry had planned to be among that number, since he couldn't in good conscience take a girl and then spend the entire evening either sneaking away from her to meet with his boyfriend in secret, or planning to sneak away to meet with his boyfriend in secret.  
  
However at the last minute, Neville was called in to work in the hospital wing. A student had been brought in with a stubborn case of ear knuts - a bronze coin fell out of his ear every time he moved his head - and Neville was needed to help apply the _paupertas_ charm that would hopefully stop the plague of change that was bothering the student. This left Ginny free to go as Harry's date.  
  
By the time the two Gryffindors made it to the Great Hall, the party was in full swing. Harry soon located Draco and the two made eye contact across the crowded room. He felt the same thrill go through him that he always felt when he saw his boyfriend. Draco was with Pansy Parkinson, who understood that Draco would abandon her to reinforce what she thought was Draco's deception of Harry.  
  
"So?" Ginny prodded. "Go to him for crying out loud."   
  
Harry smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem. Just remember to name your first daughter for me." She winked at him as he walked away.  
  
Harry walked to the front door of the building and out onto the veranda that surrounded the castle. The music was loud enough that it could be heard clearly out there.   
  
Soon, Draco joined him. Harry took Draco in his arms as they began to move in time with the music.  
  
"God, Draco. How I wish we could do this in there, where the rest can see us."  
  
"Do you?" Draco looked at Harry with love and hope in his eyes.   
  
"Of course I do." Harry's eyes reflected the love he saw in Draco's. They kissed softly and resumed dancing.  
  
They continued slow dancing through the next number, which was a fast song, resting their heads on each other's shoulders.   
  
"We'll be back together at the end of break." Harry assured Draco. "And once Voldemort's out of the way, we can be together openly."  
  
"But," Draco argued, "will you still want to be with me when it's no longer forbidden? I mean, I know that you were raised among the Muggles, and same-sex pairings carry all sorts of baggage among the Muggles, don't they?"   
  
"That's as might be," Harry attempted to assure him, "but I'm a wizard now. And to be a wizard, and to be with you, is all I want in life."  
  
"I wish I believed you," Draco said wistfully, clutching Harry tighter.  
  
_You can believe me, Draco._ Harry vowed silently. _I'll love you for the rest of my life, and if that's less than a week, I'll love you beyond, too._ But he and Draco had never said that they loved each other. Why, Harry had no idea. But it had become a time-honored tradition to avoid the word, and somehow, when Harry might very well be facing his own death soon, he couldn't violate that tradition. He tightened his grip on Draco as well.  
  
After a few more minutes of silence, Harry felt something wet on his shoulder. It was then he realized that Draco was crying. Draco lifted his head. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just so, so sorry." With that, Draco ran into the night.  
  
Harry stood watching the man he loved fleeing and could only whisper, "I love you, Draco." He'd never said the words aloud and suddenly he wished he'd said them to Draco when he had the chance, but that moment had passed and Harry feared he'd never have a chance to say them to him.  
  
He stood there, silent tears falling from his own eyes, until he finally couldn't wait any longer for Draco to return. He turned to go back in and encountered a wall of Gryffindors. Hermione, Ron and Ginny stood there. Anger flashed in Hermione's and Ron's eyes, and Harry saw that they each held one of Ginny's arms in a death-grip.  
  
"So, Harry Potter. Were you *ever* going to tell us about it?" Hermione demanded.  
  
Harry glanced in the direction that Draco had fled. "I wanted to tell you - " he began as he turned to face his friends again, but was stopped by a warning look in Ginny's eyes.   
  
"I didn't want to tell them about Professor Dumbledore's plan. I really didn't. But they forced it from me." She said pointedly.  
  
Harry took the hint. "How did you expect me to tell you?" He asked, "Should I have said, 'Guess what guys? I'm going to go head-to-head against Voldemort in the next few weeks'?  
  
"I couldn't do that." He continued his rant, as much to the absent Draco as to Hermione and Ron. "I didn't ask to be the Boy Who Lived. I didn't want it. I wanted a normal life, with parents, and friends who loved me. Instead I get a godfather on the run for murders he didn't commit and a mortal enemy who might very well be going to kill me soon.  
  
"There's no way in hell I'm going to let anyone I care about suffer the same fate I'm doomed to."  
  
With one last glance behind him into the darkness, Harry stomped back into the castle.  
  
===========  
  
A/N: All right, this chapter was a little shorter than the others, and I had a real knockdown, dragout fight planned for Harry and Draco, but they didn't comply. Sigh.   
  
Oh, and the soundtrack for this entire chapter, for those who care, is Sting's "Nothing Like the Sun" album. God, those songs are heart-tugging. 

And here's the link to Rhysenn's wonderful [Slave of Darkness][1] Thank you, Rhysenn!

   [1]: http://rhysenn.morethanart.org/slash/slaveofdarkness.htm



	21. The Waiting Begins

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 22 - The Waiting Begins  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
A/N: Oh, look! Plot with a side order of Angst!

===========  
  
After he'd claimed the Marauders' Map from his trunk, Harry avoided the Gryffindor Tower, and all of the Gryffindors, for the rest of the night. Instead, he wandered the hallways, knowing that to protect Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Draco, he'd die a thousand times. Especially, always, Draco. He cursed himself over and over for not assuring Draco of his love. But he'd always assumed that Draco *knew* that he loved him, so he never felt the need to express it in words.   
  
Even though he could see on the map that it'd be empty, he still had to go to their room in the Astronomy Tower, where they'd spent so many hours working, talking and snogging. He'd hoped to see Draco there, but the room remained as empty as if no one had ever been in there at all.  
  
There were, of course, no classes the next day, so Harry didn't worry about his level of exhaustion. He was running on adrenaline anyhow, so he couldn't feel anything but the familiar fight-or-flight sensation of the hormone running through his system.  
  
He stood in the window watching as the carriages took the majority of the student body to Hogsmeade to catch the Hogwarts Express back to London.   
  
And again when a smaller caravan of carriages took the majority of the faculty and the other students who should be staying at the school in to Hogsmeade to spend the rest of the break. Or at least until whatever would come, would come.  
  
Finally, satisfied that he, Snape and Dumbledore were the only humans left in the castle, he returned to the Great Hall. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the stone room, reverberating from the walls all the way up to the ceiling, which was the same slate gray as the clouds overhead outside the castle.   
  
At last, he heard footsteps behind him. _Who is it? Snape? Dumbledore? It can't be Voldemort. I'd feel it if it was._   
  
"Hi." A familiar voice said.  
  
He turned so quickly he had a dizzy spell. "Draco! What the hell are you doing here? You've got to leave! Now! Before your father . . ."  
  
Draco held out a piece of paper. "I'm here on my father's orders. I don't know why the Dark Lord needs me here . . ."   
  
Harry took the slip of paper. There in Lucius Malfoy's familiar, spidery handwriting was written, _Good. You must take the ruby and destroy it completely. Do *not* come home for break. The Dark Lord needs you at Hogwarts._  
  
"And?" Harry asked. His eyes were filled with fear.  
  
"So, Dumbledore's letting me stay, and we destroyed the ruby this morning. There's another thing, too. They don't know how long we've been *working* together."  
  
Harry wondered why the strange accent on the word 'working,' until he saw, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville step into the Great Hall. His worst fear, his greatest hope, all in one. "No," he whispered, then stated it again more loudly. "No. You can't be here. You've got to go home. I won't be responsible if something . . ." He choked on the words.  
  
"We aren't going." Hermione said flatly. "Dumbledore tried to convince us to go, but he couldn't. The only thing he could do was to tell Hagrid to carry us physically back to Hogsmeade."  
  
"So, why are you still here? Why didn't Hagrid take you? Is he still getting packed for his own stay in Hogsmeade?"  
  
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Hagrid refused to take us, because he's staying, too."  
  
"So, is he going to turn up out of the woodwork, too?" Harry snapped, growing increasingly uncomfortable by this display of affection from everyone he loved. "And who's going to turn up next? Fleur?" He ignored the brief flicker of pain in Draco's eyes when he mentioned the name of his ex-girlfriend.  
  
Hermione snorted. "Of course not. Don't be silly. We're using the Gryffindor common room as our base. Some people," she looked pointedly at Draco, "wanted to use the Slytherin common room, but since we outnumber them seven to two . . ." She grinned.  
  
_Oh, God. There should only be three people here, and instead, there are nine? What do I do about this? Six people who should be safely away from here are going to be in danger because of me._  
  
As if she'd read his mind, Hermione said, "We're here because we care about you, Harry, but we *want* to be here. If you blame yourself for something happening to one of us, we'll come back and haunt you, like Moaning Myrtle." She grinned.  
  
Harry had to laugh a little. "Heavens, anything but that."   
  
Harry walked towards his friends. As he passed Draco, he paused, desperate to take Draco into their group, but fearful that they'd reject Draco and cause even more tension than there was going to be anyhow.   
  
Draco solved Harry's dilemma by mumbling, "I'll see you guys in the common room," and hurrying into the corridor  
  
Harry let himself be borne along by his friends until they returned to the Gryffindor common room, where Draco, Dumbledore, Hagrid and Snape were all waiting for them to return. Draco and Snape were deep in conversation as they leafed through a stack of books on the table between them.   
  
"Ah, there you are, Harry!" Dumbledore smiled at him as if Harry had come back from the restroom, rather than from a night of panic-stricken wandering. "Would you like something to eat?" He indicated an array of cold sandwiches set out on a side table.  
  
"No thank you, Professor Dumbledore." Harry yawned. "I didn't sleep all night. I'd better get some rest so that I'm ready to face Voldemort whenever he arrives." Harry mounted the steps to his room when he heard Hagrid's voice calling out, "Harry! Wait for me! I need to talk to you about something!"  
  
Harry slowed down, but didn't stop for his friend. Hagrid caught up to him easily and the pair walked the rest of the way to Harry's room in silence.  
  
"So," Harry asked, no small amount of bitterness in his tone. "What do you need to talk to me about?"  
  
"It's about Malfoy. I hate to have to admit it, but he really does love you. Do you know where he was all night?"  
  
"No. And I don't know if I have the right to wonder anymore, since I'm about to die at Voldemort's hands."  
  
"He was in my cottage," Hagrid informed him simply. "Crying his eyes out because the man he loves might be about to die, and there's nothing he can do about it."  
  
This affected Harry like a punch to the stomach. He even grunted aloud as the import of Hagrid's words hit him.  
  
"What do you want me to do about it?" Harry asked.  
  
"Mend the break between you. Tell him you love him."  
  
"I can't, Hagrid. Don't you see? No matter how much I love him, it won't be enough to protect him if Voldemort realizes just how much I love him."  
  
Hagrid was wise enough to know not to push it. "All right, Harry." He assented. "Do it your way, but if you *do* die this week, not knowing that you love him won't stop him from mourning you for a long, long time. Possibly the rest of his life."  
  
With that, Hagrid left the room, and soon after, deep, dreamless sleep swamped Harry, pulling him downwards into a place where his worries could no longer reach him.  
  
Harry was awakened several hours later by Ron. "Harry, wake up. It's time for supper."  
  
Harry sat up, straightening out his glasses and running a hand through his tousled hair as he yawned. "Well, I guess it'd be kind of counterproductive to be plotting against Voldemort and then die of starvation before he can get to me." He joked weakly.  
  
The house elves had bought some new cookbooks and the few who stayed on, including Dobby, were using the nine Hogwarts residents as test subjects for their new recipes. Tonight's dinner was out of an Italian cookbook - veal picatta, aubergine parmagiana, and spaghetti Vesuvio were the main courses available, with an assortment of cold sliced meats and bread slices for appetizer.   
  
The food was excellent, and everyone heartily approved. All except Harry, who only ate enough veal and spaghetti to take away the little bit of hunger he felt and then pushed himself away from the table.   
  
"Mr. Malfoy and I've been working on defensive tactics to take with the Dark Lord," Snape informed the others while they were eating. "We have several charms and potions in mind that might just be helpful."   
  
Hermione, Ron and Neville pursed their lips. You could almost see their doubts about Snape and Draco hanging above their heads like thought bubbles in a comic strip.  
  
"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore leapt into the silence that followed Snape's announcement. "I know we'll all be interested to hear what you've come up with."  
  
Harry glanced briefly at Draco, who was staring right into Harry's green eyes. He wanted to stop the discussion right there, at least long enough to confess his love for Draco, but Snape followed Dumbledore's offer with a dissertation on each of the charms and potions that he and Draco had come up with.  
  
Harry listened impassively to lists of invulnerability charms, invisibility potions, and omnipotence charms, but none of these answered his main question. "How much warning will I have when Voldemort strikes?" He asked.  
  
This stopped Snape cold. Everyone looked at Dumbledore, who merely shrugged. "It depends. If he decides tonight that he's going to attack tomorrow, you'll feel the pain in your scar hours before he actually Apparates into the castle. But if he decides on, say, Wednesday, that now's as good a time as any, he'll be here before the pain stops."  
  
"That's comforting," Ron whispered to Hermione, but in the silence that followed Dumbledore's announcement, it carried as if he'd shouted it.  
  
The room grew silent again, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. Harry scanned the faces of his friends, realizing once again how fortunate he was to have so many friends who were so true to him. _And what about you?_ a voice in the back of his mind taunted. _Are you true to them? Are you doing them a service or a disservice by keeping your love for Draco a secret?_  
  
Harry told that voice to shut up. He knew that his love for Draco had to stay a secret until Draco was safe once and for all from his father. _Really?_ The voice responded, _You have to keep it a secret from your best friends? Especially since only three people in the room are ignorant of your relationship with Draco?_  
  
Harry realized that the voice was right. Ginny, Dumbledore, Snape, Hagrid and Draco already knew about their relationship. And he needed to tell Draco that he loved him. If Hermione, Ron and Neville couldn't handle the news, then they must not be the good friends they seemed to be . . .  
  
Harry fell over in a faint as the worst pain he'd ever felt hit his scar. 


	22. The Wait Ends

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 23 - The Wait Ends  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
===========  
  
When Harry regained consciousness, he was no longer lying on the warm rug of the Gryffindor common room. Instead, his body rested on cold stone.   
  
He opened his eyes and realized he was in the Great Hall. He struggled into a sitting position, shaking the grogginess from his head.   
  
Voldemort, or whoever it was who moved him to the Great Hall had evidently cast an _obscurum_ charm on the room, making it too dark to see much, but he could see that Draco, also unconscious, was next to him on the floor. He moved to Draco to wake him up.  
  
He touched his boyfriend gently, whispering, "Draco, please wake up."  
  
"He'll be fine." A voice Harry didn't recognize spoke from out of the darkness. Harry could barely see a figure in a black robe in the dim light. "The Dark Lord needs him safe and healthy."   
  
The figure stepped closer, and Harry could see that the man was wearing a Death Eater's mask. "Lucius Malfoy will be furious at you for doing this to his son." Harry bluffed.  
  
"Will he?" The man said, amused, and took off the mask, revealing the pale, blond features of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Harry's heart stopped in his chest. "Oh, my God." He whispered as he moved protectively in front of Draco. "You really don't love him at all, do you?"  
  
"And I suppose you do?" Malfoy sneered.  
  
"Yes." Harry met Malfoy's pale eyes. "I do. And I'll kill you or anyone else who tries to hurt him."  
  
Gasps from the other side of the darkened room barely registered in Harry's mind as his confrontation with Malfoy continued.  
  
"You won't need to worry about that," Malfoy gloated, "The Dark Lord won't hurt my," he sneered, "dear son."  
  
It took all of Harry's strength not to leap up and attack Malfoy, to pull that smug expression from his face with his bare hands, but just then, Draco started to wake up.  
  
"H - Harry?" Draco asked, his voice scratchy.  
  
"I'm here, Draco." He helped Draco into a sitting position, then resumed his protective position in front of the Slytherin.  
  
"How touching." This was a familiar voice -- the raspy voice of Voldemort. "It's so nice to see you so happy and in love, Harry. It'll make it that much more pleasant when I take it all away from you."  
  
"Take it away from me?" Harry responded numbly.  
  
"Yes. Well, as you can see, my body still isn't what I'd call healthy." Harry could see Voldemort then, and what he saw repulsed him. Voldemort's face looked like raw meat, and Harry could barely bear the thought of what the rest of him might look like beneath his robes.   
  
"Yes, you can see that, don't you?" Voldemort said with what Harry thought was probably supposed to be a smile. "Well, young Draco will help me with that. You see, I've found a potion that will allow me to switch places with him. I will once again be young, strong, and healthy, while poor Draco will be trapped in this." He waved one disintegrating hand to indicate his own body. "Until I've killed this body, at least." He added maliciously.  
  
"I was going to kill you outright, you know." He informed Harry, "but since I've found out about your feelings for young Mr. Malfoy, I think I'll keep you alive. For a while, at least. Just long enough for you to watch and realize that your love is gone forever."   
  
Expressionless, Malfoy stepped forward with a flask, holding it up to Voldemort's mouth while the Dark Lord took a swig. Then he drained the rest down the uncooperative throat of his son.  
  
Voldemort's eyes grew hazy with pleasure. "Oh, this is wonderful." He exulted.  
  
Harry suddenly was seized with the thought that perhaps he could somehow intercept Voldemort's spirit and redirect it into his own body, saving Draco in the process. He grabbed Draco's head. "Promise me that if this works, you won't hesitate to kill him. Me. Both of us."  
  
With those words, Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's, sticking his tongue in and licking. There was no passion in this 'kiss,' merely desperation to get as much of the potion into his own system as he could.  
  
Harry's perceptions immediately became clouded, as if he was watching from far, far away.   
  
He was vaguely aware of two other people in his head, and he recognized them as Draco and Voldemort. "Come here, Voldemort," he cried out on both levels. "Come and get me!"  
  
"You think that will stop me?" Voldemort said. By contrast to Harry, the Dark Lord spoke on three levels - his own, decaying body, the spirit plane where the three of them were trapped, and distressingly, Draco's lips moved in time with Voldemort's words.  
  
"All you have done, Harry, is increase my own pleasure. Now you will be aware of everything that happens as I move into my new home." Draco's lips still moved in time with these words.   
  
On both planes, Harry reached out a hand to Draco, "Draco!" He called out, "take my hand!"  
  
"Harry?" Draco reacted to Harry's presence and slowly, as if they were underwater, reached out for Harry's hand. They laced their fingers together and Harry willed all of this strength to his love.  
  
"Fight him, Draco!" Harry urged, on the physical and spiritual planes, "Don't let him get you!"  
  
"Fight him? How?"  
  
Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the astral plane. He could see a silver glow, a tendril of his own emerald green stretching out to interlace with it. _That must be Draco,_ he thought. Flush against Draco's silver spirit-form, was a virulent red form. _Voldemort!_   
  
Harry reached out another green tendril and wedged it between Draco's and Voldemort's spirit forms.   
  
_You see that?_ Harry asked. _The red? That's Voldemort._  
  
_Yes. I see it. What do I do?_  
  
_Push!_  
  
Harry could feel Draco's faith in Harry's advice as the silver form shoved the red one roughly, driving it away. After Draco had stopped pushing, Voldemort's spirit kept moving, farther and farther until it had disappeared completely.  
  
It was then that Harry felt, rather than heard, Voldemort's misshapen body implode. 


	23. Fallout

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 24 - Fallout  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
===========  
  
After Harry had sat by Draco's bedside, unmoving, for six hours, Neville brought him a plate.   
  
"Apparently, the house-elves now have moved on to a Mexican cookbook." Neville said with a smile as he handed the plate to Harry.  
  
"Mexican?" Harry looked down at a chicken breast in some kind of dark brown sauce, and some kind of tube wrapped in a corn husk.  
  
"Dobby said that *that* is something called chicken mole and *that* is a tamale. He says that the book said that tamales are a traditional Christmas dish. At least, that's what I *think* he said. D'you suppose we'll ever teach Dobby how to use pronouns?"  
  
Harry didn't feel like wrestling with the chicken breast, so he picked up the tamale and lifted it toward his mouth, but stopped when Neville grabbed his hand. "Take the corn husk off first. We almost made that mistake ourselves." He grinned.  
  
Harry unwrapped the tamale and bit into it. It was quite the best thing Harry had ever eaten. Or maybe he was just too hungry to tell anymore. After the tamale had taken the edge off his hunger, he put the plate aside. "I'll eat the chicken later." He said to Neville, who nodded understandingly and moved to examine Draco.  
  
"How's he doing?" Harry asked.  
  
"No change, really." Neville sighed. "Every test we've done indicates that he'll be fine - once he recovers from the emotional shock."  
  
This was old news. Ever since Madam Pomfrey had returned from Hogsmeade three hours before, she and Neville had been telling him the same thing - that Draco would be fine once he recovered. Harry wished the psychic bond that had existed among him, Draco and Voldemort hadn't dissolved when Voldemort disappeared. If he could just contact Draco somehow . . .  
  
Harry stood from his chair and moved to perch on the edge of Draco's bed. "So, here we are again, in the hospital wing," he said to his love's unconscious form, "we really should stop meeting like this."  
  
He took Draco's hand. "Hard to believe that it's only been three and a half months since we first came to our truce. And now I don't know if I can live without you . . ." Tears began pouring from his eyes.   
  
He sat like that for several minutes, grasping Draco's hand and crying, remembering their late-night meetings, their romp in the first snow of the year, Draco in Muggle clothes, dancing on the veranda of the castle outside the windows of the Great Hall.   
  
"I really thought it'd be me who'd end up hospitalized. If I'd've known that it was going to be you . . ." He wiped the tears from his cheeks.  
  
"Hey! You know what? When you wake up, you can tell Erik that his grandmother was right. A Slytherin *did* defeat Voldemort. You." He grinned at his boyfriend through his tears, then moved to kiss his inert lips.  
  
He waited a minute, but there was no change. "Damn fairy tales! A kiss from your true love doesn't do a damn bit of good."  
  
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Ginny escorting Ron and Hermione into Draco's cubicle.   
  
Harry realized that the word 'escorting' was an understatement when he saw what Ginny was doing. She was standing behind them, one hand clamped tightly on the back of each of the others' necks.  
  
Ron pursed his lips as his eyes followed Harry's arm down to where his hand was joined to Draco's. "Insomnia, huh?" He asked with very little humor and broke Ginny's grasp, leaving the room. Hermione followed him.  
  
Harry released Draco's hand and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes slowly with the heels of his hands and yawning. He put his glasses back on and saw Ginny still standing there.  
  
"Have a seat." He indicated the chair he'd vacated in favor of the edge of Draco's bed.   
  
After Ginny sat down, Harry said, "It's kind of funny, 'cause I was going to tell them just before Voldemort struck. Now I'm glad I didn't."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause if they'd reacted this way before Voldemort struck, I don't know if I'd've been able to hold it together long enough to help Draco at all."  
  
"What happened in there?"   
  
"You heard what we talked about. Voldemort wanted to take over Draco's body. And Draco stopped him." Harry turned a proud smile on his boyfriend's supine form.  
  
"But how? How did he do it?"  
  
"There was enough potion left in his mouth for me to connect to them on the astral plane. Voldemort was, like," Harry put his palms flush against each other, "against Draco. I think he was," Harry spread his fingers and pushed them so that the fingers of one hand crossed the fingers of the others, "going to go through him to get to Draco's body.  
  
"I found the place where they were joined, and told Draco to push him away. Voldemort just sort of floated away and disappeared."  
  
"And that's when he imploded?"  
  
Harry nodded. "And just as I felt the connection to them end, Draco passed out."  
  
"He'll be fine, you know." Ginny said with a sad smile.  
  
"That's what they tell me, but I still *need* him back."  
  
Ginny reached out and took Harry's hand. "He knows. And he'll be back as soon as he can be."  
  
Six more hours passed. Ginny eventually left Harry's side and was replaced by Hagrid, who just sat silently, being there if Harry needed him.  
  
"You were right." Harry said. "I should have told him that I love him."  
  
Hagrid smiled sadly. "He knows that you love him. And you'll have plenty of time to tell him. The rest of your lives."  
  
Harry wished he could be so optimistic.  
  
After Hagrid left, Neville brought Harry some breakfast. Since Harry had never touched the chicken, Neville had tried something a little less ambitious. This plate bore only one of Dumbledore's sticky breakfast pastries. Harry took a bite. It was apricot, just like the one that Harry had eaten the morning after Draco had received the Dark Mark. After he had that recollection, the pastry tasted like ashes in Harry's mouth, but he choked it down all the same.  
  
More hours passed. Neville came to check Draco's vital signs. "There's no change in his condition - wait a minute."   
  
Neville lifted Draco's left arm. "Does the Mark look lighter to you?"  
  
Harry looked at it. "Yeah. I guess. Maybe it's just wishful thinking."  
  
"Maybe." Neville left the room and came back with a box of fabric swatches. "Poppy sews in her spare time. She makes all her own robes." He grinned. "Let's see . . ."  
  
Neville began holding up black and gray swatches to the Mark. Eventually he looked up at Harry. "Does this look the same color to you?"  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
"I'll keep this here by his bedside, and when I come back to check on him next, I'll see if it's still the same color, or if it's changed in any way."  
  
Finally, Harry was able to voice one of the concerns that had been dogging him since he'd stood to check Draco's heartbeat and had felt the young Slytherin's ribs through the fabric of the hospital robe he was wearing. "Will he starve to death?"  
  
Neville gave Harry an understanding smile. "No. He won't. He doesn't have a lot of fat reserves, but we have a charm we can use to slow his metabolism if he gets dangerously thin. And I'm sure he'll be awake long before then, anyway."  
  
Later, Ginny brought Harry his lunch. It was sandwiches made from the same cold meat and bread that had been for dinner the day before. Or was it two days before? Harry had lost track of time. He choked down a sandwich and kept waiting.  
  
Dumbledore came to visit, bringing a letter with him. He sat in the guest chair that Neville had brought while Hagrid had visited. "Well," he sighed, running one hand through his hair. "It's over."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"The Ministry has their best people on it, and everything indicates that Voldemort is, in fact, gone.   
  
"This is borne out by what happened this morning. Wormtail killed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and then killed himself, leaving a suicide note in which he confessed to the crimes that Sirius was convicted for. Sirius will have a new trial, of course, but this time it'll just be a formality. He'll be acquitted."  
  
"But . . . Lucius was mine. I owe him." There was an unusual coldness to Harry's tone.  
  
Dumbledore smiled and nodded sadly. "I know you feel that way. And I think that Wormtail knew it too. But Wormtail knew something that you didn't - what happens when you are consumed by a thirst for vengeance. There's a reason they say 'consumed,' Harry. It would change you. And Wormtail chose to collect the debt he owes you for saving his life by saving you from that fate. Be thankful, Harry. And if you have a religious faith, say a prayer for Wormtail's soul."  
  
Long after Dumbledore left, Harry was numb. He saw the wisdom in Dumbledore's words, but a deep, primal, part of him wanted to hurt the people who'd scarred Draco's body and soul so deeply.  
  
_Harry and Draco were on the veranda, dancing.   
  
"I love you," Harry confessed, gazing deeply into Draco's silver eyes as they swayed to the music coming from the Great Hall.  
  
"I love you, too." Draco responded, pulling Harry to him for a kiss._  
  
" . . . love you, too." Harry heard as he struggled back to consciousness. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep, but he wanted to go back to that land, where he and Draco were happy, and together.  
  
Then the realization that Draco had spoken hit him. He stood from his chair and walked to stand next to Draco's head. "Draco?" He asked softly. "Can you hear me?"  
  
There was no response, and Harry dropped into his chair again. He'd have cried, if he'd had any tears left to shed.  
  
His eyes drifted shut again, but they flew open again when he heard someone clearing his or her throat. He looked up. It was Hermione.   
  
"Go to bed, Harry." She asked, pleadingly. "You need some rest."  
  
"No." Harry argued numbly. "I can't. Draco needs me."  
  
"You really love him."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"And Hagrid tells me that Malfoy really loves you, too. And Dumbledore says that, and Snape, and Ginny." She sighed and threw herself into the second chair. "I can't say I get it, and I can't say I'm comfortable with it, but you've been one of my best friends for seven years. And if you've found love, who'm I to argue?"  
  
Harry smiled at her. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Hermione kept vigil with Harry for a couple of hours, then. Eventually, though, she started to drift off in the chair.   
  
"Hermione? Why don't you go to bed?"  
  
She looked at Harry, but had trouble focusing her eyes. "I guess I should." She admitted. "Sorry."  
  
"No, don't apologize. You need your sleep. Thanks for staying here. And thanks for accepting … us." He looked over at Draco.  
  
"You're welcome." Hermione stood and, yawning and stretching, left the room.  
  
Harry realized then that he really was tired. He pulled his chair closer to Draco's bed, and leaning forward so his head rested on Draco's bed, fell asleep.  
  
He was awakened by a hand smoothing his hair. He looked up, expecting it to be Ginny, but instead saw Draco smiling at him. "You look like an angel when you're asleep." Draco said softly.  
  
Harry was too stunned to speak. He simply sat up and reached one hand out to touch Draco's face.  
  
Finally, he found his voice. "Draco? Is it really you? You're all right?"  
  
Draco nodded. "What time is it?"  
  
"Wednesday." Harry responded.   
  
"Wednesday? I've been out for two days?"  
  
"Yeah. I think. I need to count. We missed breakfast and lunch on Monday because of Voldemort. Dinner Monday was something Mexican. Tuesday breakfast was a sticky roll. Tuesday lunch was sandwiches made from Sunday's dinner leftovers. I fell asleep and missed dinner Tuesday, so it's either very late Tuesday or very early Wednesday now."  
  
"It's early Wednesday." Neville said with a smile as he came into the cubicle. "About half-past midnight, in fact."  
  
Neville went into medical professional mode then, examining Draco. Finally, he pronounced him in perfect health. "Though you should probably stay in bed at least until morning, just in case." He grinned at Harry, who, as he expected, was crawling into Draco's bed.   
  
Harry wrapped himself around Draco and immediately fell asleep, mumbling, "I lo . . ." as he drifted off.  
  
Draco kissed the top of Harry's head. "I know. And I love you, too."  
  
Harry woke up. The last he could remember, he was sleeping in his chair with his head on Draco's bed. But now he was lying down, and warm, and completely happy for the first time in what seemed like forever.   
  
His arm was wrapped around the source of his warmth. He snuggled closer, and then he remembered -- Draco had woken up.   
  
Suddenly Harry was wide awake. He lifted his head. Sure enough, there was Draco, looking down at him and smiling. "'Morning." Draco said, kissing the top of Harry's head.  
  
"Hi," Harry smiled up at him, squirming up in the bed to kiss Draco's lips.  
  
After they'd finished their kiss, the couple leaned their foreheads against each other's, just looking deeply into each other's eyes for a moment.   
  
"You looked so beautiful," Draco said, "I didn't have the heart to wake you."  
  
They heard a voice saying, "Eew." Then and looked over to see Ron standing there. "Oh, did I say that out loud?" Ron asked sarcastically.  
  
"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco asked testily.  
  
"I'm not here to see you, Malfoy. I came to see if Harry needed anything." Ron sighed. "I guess he doesn't." Ron turned to leave.  
  
"Ron, stop." Harry pleaded, sitting up on the bed. "I do need something."  
  
"Well, you can just get someone else to get it for you."  
  
"No, I can't. It has to come from you."  
  
"What?" Ron sighed heavily.  
  
"Your friendship."  
  
The painful honesty in Harry's tone seemed to tear away the last of Ron's defenses. He walked to Harry's side of the bed and, squeezing Draco's hand one last time, Harry stood.   
  
"Why didn't you tell us about . . . this?" Ron still wasn't quite able to put Harry's situation into words.  
  
"Because I knew that it would ruin our friendship if you ever found out."  
  
"Nothing could ever. . ." Ron began to protest, but he stopped short. He cringed. "Yeah, I guess I see your point."  
  
Harry held out his hand, and Ron took it. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't think I'll ever like him, but I promise he'll never come in the way of our friendship again."  
  
The two young men hugged, then. When they parted, Ron addressed Draco directly. "If you *ever* hurt him, I'll kill you." He said conversationally.  
  
"You'd have to take a number," Draco said with a surprising amount of humor.   
  
When Ron looked confused, Harry said, "I think a few people have made that threat."  
  
Draco nodded. "But I'd never hurt him. I love him too much."  
  
Harry looked at Draco, amazement shining in his eyes. "I love you, too."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry I never said it before."  
  
"I'm sorry, too. I meant to say it, but it just never happened."   
  
Ron mumbled, "I guess I'm not needed here anymore." And with a fond look back at his best friend, he left the cubicle.  
  
==============  
  
A/N: 3.5 months? Well, Draco's birthday is September 2, and he tried to dissolve his left arm that Friday night (September 6) and it's now mid to late December . . . so 3.5 months is probably pretty close. 


	24. Resolution

Title: Sign, Symbol, Token, Chapter 25 -- Resolution  
By: PepperjackCandy   
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a time.  
  
Warning: This is a slash story (Harry/Draco), though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.  
  
===========  
  
"What are you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Um. . . the best Beater you've ever seen? One-eighth veela? Graduating second in our class after the fair Hermione Granger?"  
  
"To me." Harry rolled his eyes dramatically, then, before Draco could joke again, said, "for the purposes of this letter."  
  
"Oh. Hm."  
  
It was the final Friday afternoon of the term, and Harry and Draco were outside. Draco lay on his back staring up at the blue sky and Harry was sitting next to him, a scroll resting on his knees as he composed.  
  
"Lover?"  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"No. For the letter."  
  
"That's a little . . . more information than a Quidditch agent needs, isn't it?"  
  
"Well, they might want to know why we insist that we need to be on the same team. . . "  
  
"Something tells me that it wouldn't take anyone who meets us long to figure out why we want to be placed together."  
  
"In that case, why don't you just call me Draco Malfoy and be done with it?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess that'd do." Harry wrote Draco's name on the scroll.  
  
"How about partner? That seems to be the muggle term for it." A deep voice said behind them.  
  
"Sirius!" Harry yelled, dropping his scroll and running to hug his godfather.   
  
After they'd greeted each other, Sirius dug into the pocket of his coat and handed a small parcel to Harry, watching Draco warily the whole time.  
  
Then, Harry motioned for Draco to join them, which he did reluctantly.  
  
"Draco." Sirius said simply.  
  
"Sirius."   
  
Harry sighed impatiently.   
  
"That was a very mature thing you did. Recanting your accusations against Buckbeak." Sirius seemed reluctant to admit this.  
  
Draco shrugged. "It was the right thing to do."  
  
"But you nearly got expelled."  
  
"And if I had, I would've survived. Hagrid has."  
  
Sirius blinked in astonishment.   
  
Draco continued. "I owe Hagrid a lot. It was at his request that I didn't get expelled. Of course, having Dumbledore and Snape vouch for me didn't hurt, but it was sort of Hagrid's prerogative, since he was - is - Buckbeak's handler."  
  
"Is he back?" Harry asked. When Sirius nodded, he said, "Come on, Draco. Let's go see him."  
  
"I . . . think I'll stay here."   
  
"Come on." Harry grabbed Draco's hand. "You don't have to pet him, if you don't want."  
  
The couple walked to the stables, where Buckbeak demonstrated his pleasure to see Harry again. Buckbeak and Draco took a while to warm up to each other, but soon Draco was scratching the hippogriff above his left wing while Harry scratched the right.   
  
They ended their visit to Buckbeak when Hagrid called them in to supper, walking into the Great Hall hand-in-hand and parting with a kiss that was no longer greeted with catcalls, since the student body had adjusted to their relationship.   
  
Harry watched Draco walk away from him towards the Slytherin table, primarily because he liked to watch his boyfriend walk. Draco joined Erik's group, who had become his primary Slytherin friends and then, feeling the small parcel in his right pocket, Harry walked to the Gryffindor table, where he joined Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville.  
  
"So?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as he took a seat, "what'd Mad-Eye Moody want to talk to you about?"  
  
"We're going to be interns working for him after graduation." Ron beamed proudly.  
  
"After the wedding." Hermione inserted. "My parents would have a fit if we were going to be in mortal danger and my mom didn't get a chance to see her only daughter get married first."  
  
This elicited amused laughs from Ron and Harry.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, affronted, but Ron and Harry only laughed harder.  
  
"What are you all doing for your last weekend at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked. She was obviously dying to tell them all something.   
  
"Gee, Ginny. I don't know what we're doing for our last weekend at Hogwarts. What are you doing for yours?" Harry asked obligingly.  
  
"Neville's taking me to meet his parents." Ginny beamed.  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked, looking from Ginny to Neville.  
  
Neville nodded. "Yeah. My mum's nurses say that she's doing a lot better. Nearly constantly lucid. She's been improving steadily since You-Know-Who's death."  
  
"And what about your father?"  
  
"My dad? He's getting better, too, they say, just not as quickly as my mum is."  
  
After supper, Harry and Draco had a study date. And they actually studied during it. Draco could tell that Harry had something on his mind, but didn't ask about it. _He'll tell me when he's ready._  
  
After their study date, Harry and Draco went for a walk, to get some privacy. They ended up in their old room in the Astronomy Tower. "You know," Harry said, kissing Draco deeply, "I actually still wake up at 1:30 every morning."  
  
Draco grinned against Harry's mouth. "So do I. Maybe we should go back to sneaking out at night."   
  
Harry kissed Draco again. "Mmm. Well, since finals are next week, probably not a good idea. My grades just barely pulled through during those months when we were sneaking around."  
  
"Well, how about tonight, and then Wednesday, after finals are over?" Draco kissed Harry back.  
  
Harry smiled. "Maybe." He took Draco's left hand, kissing the palm. Then he pushed up Draco's left sleeve, and kissed the inside of his wrist, then the spot where the Dark Mark had once defiled Draco's skin.   
  
"You know," Harry said, coming back up and kissing Draco's lips, "I was so afraid it was too much to hope for when Neville said that the Mark looked lighter. And now it's completely gone."  
  
"Just like Voldemort."  
  
"Thanks to you."   
  
Draco snorted. "I couldn't have done it without you, and you know it."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I know that if I'd lost you, there wouldn't've been any reason for me to fight him."  
  
"Oh? And why's that?"  
  
"Because I love you." Harry grinned at him, kissing him soundly.  
  
Draco pushed Harry back on the floor, running his hands lightly over Harry's body, making his breath catch in his throat. Draco's reasons for doing this were twofold - he enjoyed teasing his partner, and he briefly wondered if Harry still had the package that Sirius had given him in his pocket. But Harry's pockets were empty.  
  
_No matter,_ Draco thought, _I'm here, alone, with the man I love, and that's all that matters anyway._  
  
The next day, Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade on a double-date. Hermione and Draco had struck up a sort of friendship - being first and second in their class meant they always had something to talk about - but Ron still didn't like Draco at all. The best he'd ever said of the Slytherin was a grudging admission that he'd never seen any indication that Draco would hurt Harry in any way.  
  
They shopped, had lunch at a small restaurant that had enchanted strolling violins that played themselves, stopped by the Hogsmeade Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop to see Fred and George's latest inventions, and then headed back to Hogwarts.   
  
That evening at supper, Neville and Ginny rejoined them, full of tales about their trip to St. Mungo's.   
  
"Elnora is *so* beautiful, Hermione!" Ginny gushed. "And if that's her when she's not . . . you know, then I can't wait to see her when she's well again. Not to mention what she told us today."  
  
"What'd she say?" Hermione asked.  
  
Neville blushed. "Seems I'm not quite the miserable failure I've always thought I was."  
  
Hermione snorted, "Of course you're not, Neville." She assured him, ignoring the amused smiles of Harry and Ron.  
  
"No. I mean it. It's Peeves."  
  
"Peeves?" Ron asked.  
  
Neville nodded. "He kind of had a crush on my mom when she was a student here. He used to leave her little presents and things, and write her name in hearts on the blackboards.   
  
"Well, when she realized that the Death Eaters were after her and my dad, she sent Peeves an owl, asking him when I came here, to keep an eye on me and make sure I didn't look like I could be any kind of threat to the Death Eaters."  
  
"So all of those stupid accidents and things . . ."  
  
"Were Peeves's way of following through on my mum's request."  
  
"But your mum's not quite . . . well yet, is she?" Hermione asked. "Couldn't this all be just . . ."  
  
"I thought that, too, but remember that my bad luck just seems to stop when I walk into the hospital wing." Everyone looked confused, so Neville elaborated. "Peeves isn't allowed in the hospital wing." He grinned at the others.  
  
The next day, Harry and Draco decided to spend the day outdoors. They sat under a tree, studying, then moved out into the sunshine for a study break. They lay on their backs in the sun, letting the warmth of the spring day soak into them.  
  
Harry took out his wand, and wrote _Draco Quentin Malfoy-Potter_ in the air above their heads. "What do you think of that?" He asked.  
  
Draco's only response was an eloquent, "Ummm. . . "  
  
"Oh. How about this?" He lifted his wand again, and with one stroke, switched the _Malfoy_ and _Potter_ around so it read _Draco Quentin Potter-Malfoy._  
  
"Actually, I've lost my infatuation with the Malfoy name." Draco grinned. "How about just," he took out his own wand, and altered the text so that it read, _Harry and Draco Potter._  
  
Draco rolled onto his stomach and looked directly into Harry's green eyes. "That is, if I understand you correctly. You *are* proposing?"  
  
Harry grinned up at him. "I thought you'd *never* figure it out." He sat up and pulled the familiar package out of his pocket. "I had to guess about the size, but hopefully it's right. My dad's hands were larger than yours." He opened the paper and pulled out a man's ring. It was made of a silver metal set with a cabochon emerald. "It's white gold. When I heard my dad had this ring, I couldn't wait to get my hands on it. It just seems so . . . us."  
  
Harry sat up. "May I have the honor of your hand in marriage?" He asked formally.  
  
Draco sat up. His throat had suddenly gone dry. "Yes." He squeaked.  
  
"Your hand?" Harry prompted.  
  
Draco obediently held his left hand out, which was shaking like a leaf. Harry slipped the ring onto Draco's hand. It fit perfectly.  
  
"I don't have an engagement ring for you, though." Draco pouted.  
  
"Of course, I had a little warning." Harry grinned. "So I could get Sirius to bring this to me. I suspect we're still engaged, even if I don't have a ring yet."  
  
They kissed, then, to seal their promise, and kept kissing, and kept kissing . .   
  
=============.   
  
A/N: I was going to end this with a sort of "where are they now" kind of thing, but instead, I'm going to *show* you. Can anyone say "sequel"? 8-)   
  
It's gonna be a Snapefic, just in case you're curious. So far, no plans to go romantic with it, but if I do, it'll probably be het.   
  
It won't go nearly this quickly, I'm afraid, but while composing my "Snape" blurb for the "where are they now" thing I realized that it'd be a great story in its own right. I'm about halfway done with the first chapter. 


End file.
